Halo: Shadow Master
by Deviously Kitt
Summary: With the an unknown Shield world lost and the UNSC once again finding a victory from impossible odds, the Covenant seeks alternatives to punish the infidels. While many are being tried, only one has is highly sought after. The humans created the Demons, destructive and powerful. What if the Covenant did the same?
1. Preface

**_Preface_**

 _Hello, and thank you for clicking the link to read this story. Ahead of time, I do hope you enjoy everything I have worked so hard to create in the name of entertainment and an elaborate exercise for Character Building. The Chapters that follow are all typed and given a rough over edit within approximately a week and a half's time, they are formatted in a way that Fan Fiction doesn't do it justice, so things may look different or might not translate as well as they would on a word or PDF file._

 ** _This stated, these chapters for now are all Rough Copies. The First Draft to a chapter book styled story that is being treated as if it is to be published (Though I doubt 343 Studios will ever know it exists)_**

 _As this is a First Draft, you can expect_

 _Awkward exposition_

 _Clunky sections_

 _Plot points that might not make sense_

 _Small grammar or spelling errors that I overlooked_

 _Things that just don't make sense_

 _While I read over every chapter once I'm done with it, there will always be things that escape my eyes that you all will see. Feel free to point them out when commenting!_

 _Additionally, since these are First Drafts, I encourage creative criticism. I would love to hear how the chapter flowed, or if it needed to be changed, or if there's something that needs adding or take it out. You lovely readers are my editors as well, and praise is always nice along with the cautionary "This part here could have been worded differently". I don't expect college level responses nor do I expect people to give any responses at all. But when I'm done typing all the chapters, I will go through and refine them._

 _For now, or until I catch up on my writing, chapters will be released bi-weekly starting the second Saturday of January 2016. This schedule cannot be guaranteed, but will tried to be met_

 _Now, the last thing to cover is purely copyright stuff and rating stuff._

 ** _Halo is a franchise owned formerly by Bungie, now 343 Studios and in some respect, Microsoft. Like everything that is submitted on Fan Fiction, there is no monetary gain to writing these stories and using characters, themes, concepts and so on that have already been pre-established. I write these for entertainment and intricacy of story telling._**

 _And lastly, this story is rated M because of violence, gritty themes, and war. While there might be mentions of sexual activity later in the story, there will be no smut typed out. At best touchy feely moments that turn to implied 'fade to blacks'. Even that cannot be guaranteed._

 _Thank you very much for your time, and please enjoy the story!_


	2. Chapter 1

_**Chapter 1**_

 **1642 hours, March 1, 2531 (translated calendar)**

 **Quarantined Vector 024-Sigma**

 **High Charity**

 **Star System Classified**

"Why have we come here?" the deep voice of the Jiralhanae would ask, the massive beast regarding the dismal and dank conditions of what equated now to slums. Though on the mend, some parts of the Holy City were still burning from rebellion and an almost all out war. Thankfully it had been quelled before the outburst got out of hand, but those caught in the cross fire of a blood feud paid the price. This left the monstrous space station in an unfortunate disparity with its citizens and military.

"There are subjects of interest here. Orphans that have been abandoned by their clan." the San 'Shayuum explained dully, his three elongated fingers of his left hand batting furiously at a holographic keyboard that materialized from the hovering chair that carried him. It wasn't near as elegant as those of the High Prophets of Truth, Regret, and Mercy; however it was far more sophisticated than an antigravity belt and considerably more comfortable. The Scholar himself was nothing impressive. His skin was beginning the stages of paling from old age, and the waddles covered in a white fur like hair. His vision was nowhere near as sharp, evident from the cataracts in his eyes, but his task was not to use his senses, but rather his sharp tongue and equally trained wit.

" _Orphans_?" the Jiralhanae known simply as Broode, asked in a gruff tone. "Why?"  
There was a half grumble of irritation from The Scholar. His eyes flickered with rage toward the tall figure that walked to his right, however, they would soon return to the frantic tapping. "You are here for your brawn, nothing more." he would explain, letting his frustration with the creature show.

The massive Jiralhanae would give out a grunt like scoff. An obvious disdain for The Scholar's inability to explain what exactly he was brought along for. The meek alien knew well that Broode had never liked to be bothered with small tasks. The beast's philosophy following a simple 'if it isn't pertaining to the Great Journey directly, then it is a waste of time.'

Idly The Scholar wondered if he had even mated or sought a mate. However he would quickly disregard the thought as the mental image brought him a shudder. "I see you're troubled by this, Broode." he explained finally in his aging voice. His lungs had never been the strongest, producing a voice that was more wispy and frail. "But there is merit to this plan, and one of many orphans we must observe."

"For _what_?" Broode barked back, his frustration showing even if there was an unconscious eagerness to the mission.

"I would like to remind you that this research is restricted information" The Scholar reminded. He would receive only another huff of irritation.

"However..."

The brute tilted his head and raised a brown and bushy eyebrow.

"What I can tell you is simple. We have found what makes the Demons what they are..." a pause only because of the clear growl he received from Broode. "And we know that with our superior might; we can make the Demons cower with the proper applications." the San 'Shyuum explained. His three digit hands would come together to steeple and tap together in a rhythmic fashion.

"But we need _orphans_?" Broode questioned, unable to get past that little point

"We need children. There is simply less red tape with taking orphans. No one cares for them."

Broode fell silent for a time. The only sounds were the soft thud of his thick feet as he continued down the abandoned roadways. The massive grayish pillars that surrounded them were homes. Definitely ' _were_ '. Most of them lay crumbled along the street. Blocking paths and even burning still. The rebellion had only been recently quelled and though only affecting a small part of the city, it would still take time to repair.

The Scholar would only look to his information. The hieroglyphs displayed to his weak eyes, and unfortunately to Broode's as well if he dared peer over.

"'Moram?" he spoke suddenly. The Scholar jerked his head to the tall brown figure. His eyes glaring to mottled brown beast. The sheen of his dark armor stood out from the matted fur. "'Moram as in…Sangheili?"

"Is there an issue?" The Scholar retorted with a curt hiss.

"Why is it _always_ Sangheili that take the glory?" Broode huffed out, notably jealous.

There was a moment of inner rage. The Scholar glared the beast down. A creature so massive that it stood several heads above his own and so wide that even the San 'Shyuum's torso wasn't as thick as one of the creature's arms. "The Sangheili have proved themselves, for one, through hundreds of years of loyalty. Something the Jiralhanae have failed to accomplish as of yet." The Scholar said crisply.

"Sir, I was only just-"

"Second, these Sangheili have been disowned by their kind. Heretics, and no higher in their ranks than the Unggoy." The Scholar interrupted, ensuring his point to be made clear.

Broode again fell silent. A lack of words moreover, but there was more concern to his features. Eventually he would hold out a large hand, motioning the Scholar to stop proceeding forward. It had only then become apparent that the road ahead was blocked. A fallen pillar with belongings scattered every which way from the force of an explosion. It was amazing how the Covenant forces were so outraged by their loss with a massive Forerunner Fleet on an unknown Shield World. The foolish and heretic Arbiter costing the Covenant a necessary asset had sent many over the edge.

They had collected an impressive gathering, most Sangheili, some Unggoy, and even a few Kig Yar. Their outrage with Regret allowing a dangerous and incompetent Sangheili Heretic hold so much power, only to have it squandered and lost to mere humans and Demons. The rebellion would only last for days, and was eventually quelled with a small garrison of forces. However the Scholar was surprised so much damage could have been wrought.

"Something is wrong." Broode said, interrupting the San' Shayumm's train of thought and admiration for destruction.

"Such as?" he replied, surprised he was interrupted by a rain of debris and rock. Broode would hold out his thick arm and flatten his meaty palm, the rocks bouncing off of him instead of the frail creature. The Scholar's own hands would cover his face, hardly necessary with the brute umbrella, but it was still a reflex.

With a minute passed, the barrage would cease. The silence eerie and foreboding. The Scholar would hesitantly lower his hands. His foggy eyes glancing here and there to try and spot a sign of their attackers. For a time, there was nothing. Not even a whisper.

Then there were yells. Young dirty forms approaching from what seemed every angle. The Scholar backed himself up, feeling the weight of his chair being displaced forward as one of the attackers landed on the back of it. That weight shifted again as Broode's thick hand took hold of the creature and ripped it free, tossing it effortlessly to one side. A howl soon sounded, the atrocious sound coming from the angry Jiralhanae next to him. Broode drew his gravity hammer, started forward and almost brought the mallet crashing down upon the one he tossed.

"NO! Do not attack!" The Scholar screeched, the undignified sound brought only from his desperation to have some attempt at gaining the trust of what were young Sangheili children. Most of them standing barely over a meter tall and clearly had been on their own for some time. Though only a half dozen visible, they all worked together like a pack of wolves. Their famished bodies only defending what was probably now their 'territory'

At the command, Broode snarled angrily. It took every bit of strength he had to stop his downswing onto the fallen child, who only glared up to him with waiting amber eyes.

 _These children show no fear_ , The Scholar noted. _As if they were trained and season veterans for war. Has the rebellion truly been that horrendous?_

Again, The Scholar could only ponder over the conviction of these children. His files had suggested that 'Moram ran with a pack of older Sangheili, but he expected the pack to be in the middle of their second decade. None of the children before him appeared to have been any older than nine.

In the struggle of his inner thoughts, the other children had collected their fallen comrade, though their eagerness to attack had mysteriously vanished. It wasn't until Broode sniffed the air and turned his narrow gaze to the left of the odd pair that he realized why.

Most Sangheili were brown or gray in color. Their leathery or rough hide that was usually creased with ridges and wrinkles that patterned their bodies like ornate tribal tattoos remained common for Sangheili directly from their home world; Sangheilios. The children before him all bore that characteristic, except the one glaring him down just to his immediate left.

Amber eyes would almost glow from the dark smooth skin of this young Sangheili. Save for a gray underbelly, the small creature was almost black as night. A notably rare trait in Sangheili, The Scholar soon would recognize the subject. The small child's face bore wounds from a long since past skirmish, a noticeable upper mandible missing on its left side. There were cuts all along its body, traces of dried purple blood ran all along his thin body and only a brown tattered loin cloth covered him. More noticeable was the stick the little beast held, nothing more than a tattered old stick that someone likely had as a souvenir at one time. The stick remained close to its right side, a makeshift splint just below its knee making the reason for the crutch obvious.

The Scholar's feature's softened. While not worried, he felt pity for the little beast. The file spread out in holographic view before him suggested the target was barely 5. Had he not known better, he would have assumed the subject younger, its body so small he stood at an ungainly height of a head and a half smaller than its comrades. A shame, but that was something beyond the San'Shayuum's control.

"Jora?" The Scholar asked. "Jora 'Moram?"

The little black Sangheili sneered, its little snaggle tooth teeth bearing from behind the three remaining mandibles. " _Who_ is asking?" the little creature responded with a growl. Though the voice was young, The Scholar was shocked at the growl. Children that age were never this aggressive.

Broode suddenly entered The Scholar's peripheral vision. A step later and he was to the right of the chair, hammer at the ready. "Show your respects, _clutch runt_." The brute retorted.

"I show respect _only_ to Sangheili!" was the reply the adult pair received. The Scholar stared impressed for a moment and then noted Broode had taken another three steps forward. That hammer was ready for a downswing; however The Scholar noted how the other Sangheili children came to stand around the injured runt.

"Chieftain…" was all the San 'Shyuum had to say. Broode would hesitantly stop and back peddle a step or two, but his gaze never left the little group. "Jora, I am Hita'Ule Keedoc." The Scholar introduced, pushing the chair forward with a tap of a control button. "I and my accomplice have been sent to offer you an opportunity to join the Covenant's cause." He spoke, his voice soft and calming despite the unintentional rasp of a few words.

"I am too young." The Sangheili spoke, a left hand rising with fist clenched, a clear symbol for the others to move back. They did as the command suggest and Hita'Ule was impressed. _He's the leader_ , the San'Shayuum balked in surprise. His jaw would go slack and his eyes looked over the remaining group. _But he's so small! How can he be the leader?_

"Did you hear me Prophet?" Jora growled, his eyes flaring at an unknown temper. "I am too young. Why would the Covenant want me?" the little one asked.

"You…" he paused, still a bit dumbfounded. "You have potential. The Hierarchs and their subordinates see something. Perhaps it is your lineage or-"but The Scholar was cut off with a snort. Not from the Sangheili, but from the Jiralhanae.

"Broode, enough." The Scholar finally scolded, having more than enough of the Chieftain. There was a lingering gaze from everyone surrounding the Prophet, but eventually Broode would huff and move back, likely to sulk or to glare from a distance. "Regardless, Jora, the Covenant wants to take you in its ranks. To train you in the stead of your family." He said in a stern tone.

The Scholar noted the words seemed to hit home. As tall as Jora stood and as brave as he appeared, there was a moment for remorse. He was still a child and Hita'Ule wasn't at all surprised to see a glisten of a few tears followed by a sniffle. Jora's head would lower before his features softened, eyes looking around the group he likely had come to accept as brothers and sisters.

"What of my friends?" he asked, those once glaring eyes turning back to the San'Shayuum. "Will they be taken too?"

"No, I am afraid not. While they are all exceptional specimens, it is _you_ the Covenant wants at this young age." The Scholar said.

Another longing gaze went around the company. Gray faces turned to the black one, some conveying sorrow and other anger. "What if I don't _want_ to go?" Jora asked, his tone almost challenging

"You have no choice, I'm afraid. It is the reason the Jiralhanae is here." The Scholar explained, gesturing his bulbous head toward the looming figure in the fading light of a simulated star.

Silence again, this time the dark head bowed and weight shifted to favor the unbroken leg. The remaining mandibles twitched in thought and Jora's eyes betrayed his strong demeanor with pain. "Can you not do _something_ for them?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. "Give them homes? Food? A family? Something?" Jora added, his eyes coming back to The Scholar.

Hita'Ule pursed his lips. His dark foggy eyes flickered between Jora and the company he surrounded himself with. A moment later his head bowed and turned to the panels on the arm chairs. A few flickers of his fingers and he brought up a holographic screen. _I could always lie_ , he thought while he tapped in a message to his superior. Yet even that notion made him feel a bit guilty.

A reply came from the higher up. A go ahead that made The Scholar oddly elated:

"Your sympathetic heart is your downfall, but yes. If the subject requests aide for his little gathering of runts, I will see to it that they are put provided necessities until old enough to join the cause.

Bring them with you, but separate Jora."

"Your friends will be accommodated." The Scholar finally replied, showing relief in his tone. His eyes caught the faint signs of confusion, then silent jubilation. "And unless there is more that needs to be done here, we shall depart." The Scholar spoke, turning his chair lightly and awaiting the ragged group to follow.

Little cloven feet moved without question. Two larger would stay back to help with the leader. Jora wasn't able to put any weight on his right leg, a concern for the San 'Shyuum but what was he to do. This point on, his only goal was to get the Sangheili children to an awaiting phantom at the edge of the war zone. Once at that point, his job was over and Broode's began.

At that point, Hita'Ule could only hope that whatever plans the Minister of Safeguard had worked out for the Covenant and the unfortunate individuals it hand selected.


	3. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2**_

 **0405 hours, March 5, 2531 (translated calendar)**

 **Ministry of Safeguard Training Facility**

 **High Charity**

 **Star System Classified**

One moment there had just been a blissful quiet. Deafening silence that left the envious Sangheili wishing there was just a scrap of sound to hear. His wish was soon granted. A loud pop and something would jolt his senses to life. The blurry room slowly came to focus, but only after his body was ripped from an examination table. "On your feet!" a harsh voice barked to him. Not that he had much choice.

His bones cried out in agony when his hooves touched the floor. The right leg still recovering while the left remained sympathetic to its twin and gave way. Jora felt his feet brush along the floor tiles for a moment, only before his captor gave his arm a jerk again. "I said on your feet!"

"I'm _trying_!" the Sangheili protested. He realized a mere half second later how that was.

While he couldn't be sure what, something bounced against his face. The object, feeling much like a Jiralhanae fist, cracked against Jora's right eye socket. The sound exploded though his skull and for a moment the world went dark. His vision would soon return, his feet beneath him and dragging. Pain swelled up and down his nerves again, but there was little he could do. Jora noted that something different had him. Two smaller figures, each with an arm around his back while his own rest on different shoulders.

"Stupid Sangheili." One of the creatures barked his voice grating and high pitched. "Why do they always resist?" one finished.

The other gave out an irritated snort and then shifted Jora's weight. "And for being so small, Stupid Sangheili weighs so much. Why can't Brutes take him?"

"Because Chieftain punched Stupid Sangheili in face. Bloody nose looks bad on Jiralhanae," One replied, his tone miffed.

Two scoffed again. "So blame us? That's so not fair!"

"Wanna know secret? Like really cool secret?" One asked and almost jumped up and down with glee.

"What is it? Something good?" Two responded, seeming almost as excited. Jora swore inwardly at being jangled around by the overly excited pair of what he figured were Unggoy.

"Real good. Did you know that the Demons are-" One paused when he felt something crack against the back of his methane tank.

"Quiet!" a considerably more gruff and foreboding creature snarled from behind. Jora didn't need to turn around to know there was a Sangheili behind him. He didn't dare look over his shoulder anyway. "Unless you wish to beseech the wrath of the Hierarchs, I suggest you still your jaws." The likely massive Sangheili warrior warned the pair of little Grunts.

"Yes, Commander!" the Unggoy screeched in unison, picking up their waddling pace shortly after.

"Subject!" The Sangheili barked shortly after that. "On your hooves!"

Jora sighed out, his hesitancy and even that little exhale of air resulted in something to crack against his back side. It felt oddly like the muzzle end of a carbine, but surely there wasn't an armed and at the ready warrior escorting him!

"I said on your hooves!" the order came out again, this time Jora complied. He got his left underneath him, then his right. Though there was pain, he knew what would happen if he were to disobey the order. Jora already felt a welt growing on his rump from the forceful smack.

The Unggoy remained silent from there. Jora's heavy breathing caused from the agony that shot through his right leg with every step it bore weight. He tried not to let it show, but the obvious injured gait was just not something he could fix. It brought a few growls from the seemingly ruthless Sangheili guard, but there were chuffs and snorts, even the occasional murmur of discontent. Jora wasn't able to make out all of it, but he did hear _'pity'_ and _'a shame_ ' muttered out.

What seemed like an eternity of walking soon ended shortly after. The long dark metal hallway seemed to end at a seamless dead end. But the company knew better and kept on at the sluggish pace, a glow coming from a few of the intricate designs and the wall revealing itself to be an open door in a matter of seconds. The door opened into a massive room, dark and only lit by a few scattered violet markers that rested against the wall about half way up. Jora couldn't tell exactly what hue the wall actually was. He figured the slate gray color that dominated the previous hallway. His eyes would move down, look around and see other children strewn about the benches. They all had guards like him and they all were facing one focal point, a raised platform with two San 'Shyuum waiting patiently.

One of them had an ornate throne. He noticed gold trimming around the various peaks of the design while his robe seemed to match the elegant design. The San 'Shyuum himself wore a crown, also a metallic gold that was almost blinding to Jora. His neck seemed raised, despite the natural bow of the elongated spine. The other San 'Shyuum behind seemed to ensure every movement he made placed him lower. Though just as decorated, the lesser wore a green robe as opposed to the brilliant red. Though not near as dignified, the insubordinate's chair appeared more for tactile use rather than dressy appearance. Though it likely functioned all the same.

"Sit over there. You Unggoy can bug off." The Sangheili behind Jora spoke. Sitting was appreciated and while he wasted little time finding a seat, the child also took great measures to avoid his 'personal guard'. It was then he had a fair look at the adult. His armor was pearlescent white with light blue markings accenting various pieces. He wasn't any taller than most Sangheili, standing a little over 2 meters tall. But to Jora, the man was a mountain clad in muscle and metal. The one thing he could make of the covered face was piercing forest green eyes. The Commander was glaring at him, however a small flicker betrayed his gruff demeanor and Jora realized the Sangheili didn't want any part of this.

Still Jora turned his attention to the sound of a clearing throat. His remaining mandibles glued shut and his body rigid. He was trained just like every other Sangheili child present. Respect your elders. Listen to their every word and accept it as truth. The San 'Shyuum might have been a different species, but Jora wasn't a fool. He had been living in High Charity's protection long enough to know the leader of the two aliens was in fact the Prophet of Truth.

The Minister sat just off to the leader's left. He kept his expression in check, watched over the rigid figures in the dark auditorium. All of the children were trained right by their parents, or when their parents had still regarded them as their offspring. Most were simply orphans from the recent uprising. Some were casted aside by their elders for strange Sangheili rituals. He could note one or two that had been torn away from the clutches of their mothers. Yet the vast majority had volunteered. The same tired phrase of being called to a higher purpose appealed to most of them.

* * *

 _Young Sangheili are so eager._ He thought to himself with a sneer on his face. But the Minister would catch himself. That sneer fading from his features while his blue eyes would glance around the room to see if he saw any face staring back at him. He was relieved there were none.

"Children, I am glad many of you have volunteered for this service." The Prophet of Truth began. His voice was booming with the acoustics of the room amplifying his already altered voice. The Minister had to gently float his chair aside as not to deafen himself by sitting so close. "The Covenant needs valiant and brave individuals who are ready to throw themselves to battle for the sake of the Great Journey."

Half blown lies really. The Minister would hold his tongue on the matter, but he remained skeptical. Not so much on the aspects of the Covenant's faith or the devout expressions the children have shown. More so that Truth was actually grateful and wanting to be here. A few cycles earlier, The Minister recalled essentially begging for Truth to come and speak. Even if just to break the ice.

"While I know Sangheili traditions and age would proclaim otherwise, you selected few are now part of a vast and mighty army." Truth said as he held out his arms in a wide sweeping gesture. "From this day forward, cast aside your notions that you are children. No longer will you be regarded as such." Truth added on with his arms coming to rest back along the arms of his throne. The Minister couldn't help a snort of disbelief. A sound that likely didn't go unnoticed by his leader but appeared to have been ignored.

"You are _now_ soldiers. Cadets in training. While I cannot allow insight on what training, I am certain The Minister of Safeguard can and will happily speak on behalf of this subject." Truth said as he moved aside. That was exactly what The Minister had expected to happen with his little outburst. He didn't mind both way, the ice had been broken and Truth was likely better useful in other parts of High Charity.

The Minister hovered forward a half foot or two, mostly to show he was the center of attention for the time. He would activate his voice amplifier before speaking. "Thank you, Prophet of Truth." He regarded with his voice crisp and brimming with unseen energy. "And while you are Cadets, you are _still_ low on the ranks." He clarified. This wasn't meant to be a pep talk. These children were about to face the reality of what they had signed up for.

"You have all been selected for great prowess among your genes. Your genetic coding is ideal for what we ultimately want you to become. When you have finished your training, we expect you to go from the bottom of the Covenant's forces to the top. Such an honor that will only be achieved through hard work, perseverance, and many broken bones." He announced, his eyes leading around the room and seeing a few children shuffle in their seats. Even still most didn't look away or let a stray eye wander to the two exits. _Truly they are blind with courage or perhaps our geneticists were wrong. Then again, isn't courage a form of stupidity?_

"From here in, the _only_ family any of you will ever have is each other. We expect every one of you to regard one another as brothers" he spoke, though noted that Sangheili did anyway. "If you do not, then you will be miserable. Since the moment you volunteered yourself, the only option for you to leave is through an airlock."

Now the Minister heard a little more shuffling. A few eyes betrayed the previous stoic and strong gazes. He would disregard all this for now, knowing well that those who were weak would show in the days to come. "For now, we will begin your training. Each one of you has been assigned a personal guard. A Sangheili that you will regard like your father or uncle." He said, disregarding that some of the boys present didn't all have the same traditions as others. "He will constantly mentor you, school you, train you, and protect you. The rest of today's training regimen, you will do nothing accept learn to embrace your new family. Tomorrow though…" The Minister paused, letting a lopsided smirk spread across his face. "…prepare for hell."

* * *

Jora finally planted himself in a small chair. The large group of Sangheili children and adults all came together in one room and had finally gotten situated. The adults had taken time to sort the lot out. Assign squads and then fill them up. That seemed to be the job of the male that had accompanied Jora as the rest of the adults all wore blue or red armor.

He couldn't tell how many had been there. It looked as if a couple hundred, maybe more. Everyone had been separated into one of 8 groups. The smaller circles littered around a massive gym, or at least that's what it appeared to be. The room was bare and it made Jora feel even smaller. Though at least it had been well lit.

"Listen up!" white armor clad Sangheili called, his growling young voice booming around the empty room and resulting in the unison sound of heads snapping to attention. "While the Prophet indeed wants all of you to cooperate with one another, I cannot expect all of you to be as closely familiar with one another as he would like." The male explained, his left hand carrying a semicircular data pad while his right would move as he spoke. "And while you will each be assigned a mentor," there was notable emphasis on that word. "Your mentor will not always be as capable in assisting you as the Minster had lead you to believe." The Sangheili commander explained as he moved around the outside perimeter of the group.

"In a few hours, we will be relocating to a training facility. This facility is under my care and these warriors that have been assigned to you are under my command, not the Minister's." The male clarified, his forest green eyes falling on Jora's group. "Thus this makes your safety my responsibility. I will spare you the dull lectures your parents have likely drilled in your skulls, but make no mistake; I am _not_ your parents." Again there was that emphasis. Jora truly wondered if the Commander wanted any part of this.

The Sangheili male seemed to switch gears, looking to his warriors and nodding his head to a select few in red armor. "The groups you have been assigned in will be permanent. Every one of you has been categorized by what the Prophets have discovered from your genealogy." The male's head would snake to one group on the far left, the opposite end of the room to Jora. "You lot are _Infantry_ " his head moved again, to the next group and it would continue to do as such for the rest of the seven circles. "You are _Shield_ , _Blade_ , _Lance_ , _Grenade_ , _Rifle,_ _Ranger_ , and _Special_." The male finished, his head falling down on the last group where Jora sat.

 _What in the gods name does it mean to be in the special group?_ He could almost see all the boys he was sitting with mentally ask. Jora wondered the same thing. In fact he pondered if being in the 'Special' group was a good or bad thing. Perhaps Special translated to cannon fodder. The boy wished he could know.

"And in time, we will divide your group even further, but for now that's not something you lot should consider." The Sangheili spoke, heads snapping in attention yet again. "Now, I will silence my mandibles and allow you to get better acquainted. We have approximately an hour before hooves must be on the transport ship." He finished his head turning with his body. The white armor would ultimately disappear and a dull chatter would fill the room. All the voices belonging to the young boys.

"I'm Zetra!" one boy in his group spoke, breaking the silence in the 'Special' troop. Jora couldn't help but shake his head, now starting to think that he was doomed and he was cannon fodder.

"I'm Vulen" another spoke. "Damerit" "Topil" "Wuiled" and the names went on and on. Thirty three names had gone by, all of the boys introducing one another, but never throwing out last names. Jora idly wondered if someone had told them that last names were irrelevant and not mentioned it to him.

"What about you?" the light gray skinned and black stripped Zetra spoke as eyes would turn to him.

"I'm Jora." He mumbled back, head lowering a little bit and shoulders pulling arms inward. An obvious sign of discomfort.

"Jora?" Wuiled asked as he tilted his large brown head to one side. "As in, Jora 'Moram?" the boy asked. He felt those eyes intensify now. Jora wanted to shrink away and hide. He missed his friends from the raid. Even though they had helped him with his broken leg, Jora still felt comfortable around 6 others. But thirty three others? It was overwhelming when he had never seen that many Sangheili before.

"Yeah, Uhm should we be mentioning that?" Jora asked hesitantly. "I mean, no one else had their last name me-"

"No, you lead the Stray Pack didn't you?" Topil interrupted, his brown eyes barely standing apart from his dark gray and mottled skin. Jora looked up. This wasn't about his lineage and that baffled him. "You…knew about the Pack?" he asked tilting his head slightly and becoming just a bit more confident.

"We all do." Wuiled said, nodding his head along with a bunch of others. "You had a broken leg, lost your mom in the explosion and fought off a Kig Yar." The brown Sangheili boy added. "How did you do it?"

"I just…" he paused and thought about it. That moment was blurry. Jora remembered crawling around; calling for his mother when a Kig Yar meant to crush the rebellion had found him. It's long toothy beak and bulbous eyes seemed to be the only thing that stood out to him at the time. " I guess I looked at the thing and just… I dunno." Jora finally said, his head rising and mandibles clicking together, an indication of a shrug.

"I'll bet it's that blood." Damerit spoke up, his dark slate blue skin making his orange eyes stand out. He had previously just been sitting quiet, arms crossed of his small chest and body language showing he just didn't care for much of anyone around him. " My uncle said that 'Moram blood has a lot of anger in it. Lot of stupidity." He added.

Jora bristled. His eyes glared the other from across the circle and for a moment, it seemed that nothing else had mattered. It was that same feeling he had with the Kig Yar. The sudden tunnel vision and focus that had made the boy forget that this Sangheili was on his side.

A sharp snap to the back of his neck and the child let out a small growl. He heard the same come from across the circle. A male in blue armor stood behind Damerit with left hand raised and angled to where the the warrior used a chop motion. Likely it was the same used on Jora as well, but then he became aware that he wasn't sitting in his chair. The cloud on his vision disappeared and Jora glanced around, seeing the other boys leaning in ready to either provoke a fight or break it up. "What happened?" he asked, feeling a hand come around his shoulder and lift him back to his seat.

"You just stood up and started walking towards him." Topil said as he leaned forward and rested elbows against thighs. He seemed rather disappointed, most of them did.

"I…did?" Jora asked, his head tilting in disbelief.

"Oh yeah." Zetra turned to look to Damerit, who seemed too embarrassed to do anything other than turn his eyes away and sulk. "You don't remember?"

"No." Jora said. "In fact that's why I don't remember that Kig Yar. I think anyway." He added, completely uncertain his tone.

There was a partial murmur of interest, but Jora didn't care to go further. He was still a bit sore, both from being called a 'hot blood' and from the pain compliance used against him to stop the fight. While he wanted to have been silent for the rest of the time before they got on this ship, Jora was forced to talk. Mostly from Zetra, Wuiled and Topil who had all switched seats so they didn't have to shout across the circle to talk. It was nice getting to speak to others again. Even if it had only been a few days since he last saw his friends. It was about then Jora wondered if his pack was doing ok.

* * *

"You saw that, right?" one Sangheili asked his superior. "I've seen that look before."

"He is a spitting image of his father…" The commander spoke, his tone more thinking aloud than actually making conversation. "Aside the darkness, I've never seen offspring to share such a likeness of someone they never met." He said with a weary sigh.

"143 had a valid point. That 'Hot blood' runs in the 'Moram line."

"143?" the commander asked, turning his white helmeted head toward his subordinate. "You're using their codes?"

"I can't know all of their names. It's easier to think of them as a number than Sangheili." The zealot explained, glancing sideways but returning his focus just as quick. "He seems to have quite the following already."

"Because he has that perfect breeding." The superior male spoke, bringing one arm to cross over ornate amor. His other would rest on that arm while the four digit hand would curl and allow a helmet to rest against it. "Shuli was as bright as they come. She could outwit any male and fight just as well. Were it not for traditions, I would gladly have had her in my ranks."

"That's blasphemous!"

"Mind your jaws." The commander spoke in a chiding tone. "You've been at this a lot longer than I have, Trem. You've gotten set in your ways." The commander spoke with his tone ebbing back to it's weary state. "I think females are an asset to the Covenant, but as warriors…"

" Can we move past this point?" Trem snorted, fidgeting in his red closed up armor.

"Very well. I still wonder what Shuli saw in Ripa."

"Brute strength." The zealot huffed.

"Perhaps. She was no fool and I have never witnessed her stand for being pushed around." The commander spoke, shifting his stance to move over to one of the seats. It was barely comparable to what he had seen littering human streets. He vaguely remembered them being called folding chairs.

"Ripa was formidable in size. Maybe it was…you know…" Trem gestured downward with his head.

That brought a chuff from the white armor clad Sangheili. He would glare his insubordinate down for a time before waving a hand as a candid dismissal. "Take your perverted thoughts to your wife, Trem. I will not have them here around children."

"Yes Commander." The zealot sighed, bowing his head in respect and soon moving off. Of course the order wasn't serious, but the leading Sangheili simply wanted to see the other off. Now he just had to wonder what it was he should do before the ship was ready for loading. There was a half hours still remaining and so far none of the other children seemed as eager to fight as 143 and 26 had been.

"Jora…his _name_ is Jora." He reminded himself aloud. Then cursed again as his feet brought him up in agitation. _You are not his father. You are his mentor. Just his mentor._


	4. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3**_

 **0600 hours, March 6, 2531 (translated calendar)**

 **Ministry of Safeguard Training Facility Sector 2**

 **Noble Shadows**

 **Star System Classified**

How long had it been since Jora was supposed to have gone to sleep? How long had it been since the newly transferred cadets were brought aboard a transport ship, only then to be brought onto a docked Covenant vessel on an unknown planet? Jora remembered being moved from one transport ship to another, blind folded and herded around like fodder. He remembered hearing the murmurs of others around him. He remembered Topil's sickness and balance problems, and Wuiled losing his mind over not having a clue as to where they were headed. It was a grueling several hours, the only knowledge of their final destination being through sparse chatter from Unggoy and similarly transported Sangheili Mentors.

Jora vaguely recalled having his blindfold being ripped off, simultaneous to the 34 others he was with. He couldn't forget the massive hangar bay, nearly bare of transport phantoms and battle tanks like Wraiths. The bay looked worn, some of its glossy innards having long lost their gray and purple metallic sheen. Yet there were sections that appeared new and shiny. Jora couldn't make sense of the bay. He didn't have time.

The children had then been whisked away, fed, clothed with less tattered loin cloths. A band was placed around every shoulder, printed in the symbols that Jora vaguely understood were numbers. His band was black, the white symbols reading '026'; or at least that's what he thought. The others in his team had the same color band. All bands were over the left bicep, but with different numbers. Wuiled was '162', Topil '074' and Zetra '245'. He vaguely saw the '143' on the retreating Damerit, but whether that was just a misread or truth Jora hadn't the time to decipher.

His group was then herded forward, following another that had landed before them. He could vaguely see blue bands on the arms of those children and would only wonder what group they were from. Again, no time for wondering, Special group was chorale toward a makeshift station manned by several Sangheili, Kig Yar, and Unggoy. Every child instructed to approach an assembly line of medical staff. One by one, they approached, Jora going somewhere in the middle.

"Subject 026, previously treated for broken right ulna and infection." A male Sangheili announced as he pulled up the data file on his square gray pad. Jora felt a hand on his back as he was pushed forward by his mentor; the Commander. His hooves brought him to the Sangheili who announced him, though received a wave of the hand to continue to the next creature in line. This time an Unggoy with a head lamp strapped to the side of his methane gas mask.

"Open mandibles please!" it would instruct, and Jora did, soon having a fat carapace finger touching his throat. "Throat looks good. Cough." The Unggoy instructed, putting a cone shaped device against his chest that pierced him like an icy blade. Jora did as such and took a few more breaths in to regain his rhythm. "026 shows potential for respiratory troubles. Sounds unable to refill lungs completely." It spoke, stepping back. "But hearts strong and healthy." It said, waving a chitin hand. Jora stepped forward, a Sangheili gesturing to get up on a table. This was the part that took the longest. This was a thorough examination from eye dilation, teeth formation, to muscle structure digestive sounds, and the more invasive examinations that continued down. All done with gloved hands and a keen eye.

"Aside a missing mandible, healing fracture, and under developed musculature" the Sangheili announced as he instructed Jora to hop of f the table while he changed gloves and slipped on a new pair, "026 is clear." And the Sangheili turned to the next cadet that came up to his table, doing the exact same thing to him as well.

From there it had been shots. Some drew blood; others pumped Jora's veins with who could only imagine what. He remembered asking, but received no real answer. He was instead given some sugar snaps to make up for the blood loss. Then came pills, or at least that's what Jora thought was forced down his open throat. All he remembered was a Kig Yar grabbing his head, pulling it back and a Sangheili tipping a small dish of who knew what. Never did Jora really feel anything, but he couldn't help but stumble once his head was released.

His memory grew foggy after that, and with one event after another, somehow he ended up in a cot. And that's what he remembered. Laying there for what seemed like forever. But his body wasn't tired. It was at peace with just resting there for what seemed like only a few minutes. Jora swore that maybe he closed his eyes finally to get some sleep before the hissing door to the barracks brought his senses back up and running.

"On your hooves, Specs!" a booming voice commanded. The sound of armor shuffling soon followed. The mentors barking out orders for the other cadets to get up, quit being lazy, shake off the sleep, and everything else in order to rouse them. Jora found a white helmet entering his vision. Forest green eyes glaring him down as a slew of orders came soon after. The dark child hadn't even been really aware of how quick he sat up and turned to jump out of his cot. The orders still came though.

"Double time Cadet! Get in line!" The commander snarled. Jora did as ordered. A twinge of pain ran up his leg for a brief moment, but faded as his legs started working. He would run forward, stand next to whoever was in line and soon find another Cadet move up to his right. A little later, there was someone behind him, and the group had formed. A few heads would look around, trying to decipher what they had just done or where they were, but Jora knew to keep his head forward. A few passing mentors gave swats to those with wandering eyes, instructing them to look ahead.

"Shape up, Specs!" the Commander barked as he moved quickly to the head of the line, his white armor glistening from a recent polish. "Mentors, proceed in tour!" he added, soon watching the red clad zealot step up next to him. The Commander would then move off, disappearing from the barracks likely to get the other groups going.

"Specs, Double time it!" the Zealot shouted, his voice not carrying near as well. The red armor turned around and started a quick walk. Mentors flanking the sides of the group and bringing up the rear as the group started to run forward. At first, everyone managed to keep in formation, but what was barely a brisk walk to the adults was practically a flat out run for Jora and many others. He fell behind quickly and found a blue armored adult waiting for him. His head was brought down low, as though to intimidate.

"What are you _doing_ , Cadet!?" he screamed, "You're falling behind!"

"I know!" and Jora received a swat right between his shoulder blades.

"I didn't _ask_ you to respond! Rally your muscles and move it!"

Jora tried so hard. He truly did. But his efforts kept him behind the group, even the other stragglers who just weren't used to running managed to find a groove and keep up. Every moment he started to get a bit of a wind, he would get close, only to find his wind had gone and he was behind again, now with two blue armors urging him on. He couldn't imagine what would happen if he outright stopped or passed out suddenly.

He hadn't realized that the pain and agony his lungs endured had been that long. The red zealot way ahead suddenly stopping and turning. While Jora was still catching up, he vaguely heard the words 'climbers' barked over the panting. As he got closer, the other children all got down on all fours, rapidly bringing their one of their knees to their chest and crouch on it, then push it back while bringing the other forward simultaneously and repeating the motions.

Just as Jora had fallen in line to start his own climbers, the leading Zealot called out 30 seconds. He didn't know if that was what was left or how long they had been doing this exercise. Still panting hard, he could barely hear the instructors over his beating hearts. The sound almost deafening. He heard other sounds too, other kids retching and the yells coming from the surrounding Sangheili mentors. They urged them to continue the exercise as they had done to him not long ago. He saw the boy next to him fall, struggle to get arms underneath him for a moment, but when the yelling and screaming came again, the fallen cadet found his bearings and continued on as best he was able.

"2 minutes!" the zealot called out.

Jora kept his hooves moving. Despite every protesting muscle in his body and the fire that lit up in his chest every time he drew breathe. He would only continue, his knees giving out at one point and his body falling flat on the ground. No sooner did a blue armor bark orders for him to get up, which Jora managed just barely.

"Time, on your hooves!" the Zealot said, standing up. "Jump squares!" he ordered, first demonstrating to the barely listening group. He would pick 4 imaginary points within a 3 foot square and do short jumps to each point, ultimately forming a square as he continued on. "Mix up your points! Don't bump into anyone!" he said as he continued on his exercise. "Pick a square! Go" he ordered.

The cadets filled the room, Jora noticing they were again in the hangar and the other groups were there too, though on different exercises. He didn't linger his thoughts for long, went to his square and started jumping as he was shown. He felt his hooves slip out from under him more times he could count. Other cadets having the same troubles, some even out right passing out for a few seconds before bring picked up and brought back to it. No one left the cluster of jumping kids though. Those that fell would get back to it once the gentleness of the blue armors faded.

Exercises would only continue from there. Sit ups, squat jumps, tuck rolls, and then more running. By that point, even the brisk walk of the adult Sangheili was too fast for the fittest of the boys. Jora wasn't alone as he lagged behind, the persistent yells of the blue armors growing tiring to hear. But it all was over soon as the group arrived back in the barracks they started. The red Zealot's march stopping as he turned to look to the group. "At ease cadets!" he ordered, his hands coming behind his back as he strode off to the side of the group.

"Shower off, Lunch is in 40!" he said as he and the other Sangheili moved off and out of the large room lined with bunks against the wall.

No one had uttered a word at that point. Those who were still functional enough to walk would do so with trembling legs. Everyone else collapsed where the stood. Jora was one of them. He felt foggy the moment he hit the padded floor. His would chest rise and fall continuously before a few other boys came and brought him to his feet. "Come on." He recognized the distant voice as Zetra. "Shower off" the voice said calmly. There were a couple hands around his arms, lifting him up and walking him to the showers. Jora felt groggy up to the point ice cold water pelted his near bare body.

Jora cursed out in a Sangheili dialect not readily recognized. The words roughly translating to _'By the gods and their sons!'_ But of course there was a bit more to it than that, so the other boys likely believed some naughty words were uttered. Of course only being children, some would gasp, others snickered.

"Who was the fodder who made this so cold?" the dark colored child snapped to the ones collected around the open shower stall.

"That would probably be Damerit." Topil spoke, gesturing a hand to the nearby dark gray boy who leaned against his bunk. Of course he was smirking. The furrowed brows drew closer while cheek muscles were drawn up. There was a faint curl around the hinge point of upper mandible and skull, but to the untrained eye no one would have noticed.

Jora scoffed irritably, momentarily having forgotten about his pain until he calmed from the cold ice water. His wash was brief, just long enough to get the grease, oil, and gods knew what else was on that hangar bay floor. He distinctly saw a few paint flecks on his smooth leathery skin; however they quickly washed off with his body shifting under the torrent.

"Meal time!" a voice called, younger and likely one of the boys who had just received some sort of magical information. Never had Jora been so eager for food. Even with his body aching and demanding rest, his stomach growled. Though he couldn't decipher if it was a demand for food or a warning of more retching.

He turned the water off with a nearby flip of the switch, his hooves gently carrying him from the tiled floor and out to his bunk. Ahead towards the large door, he could see a cart rolled along by a pair of Unggoy. One would push while the other handed out a plastic clear container that appeared to be six inches long. The container was cylindrical and had a cap on the top, but otherwise contained a puréed gray mixture inside. "This…is _lunch_?" he heard one boy speak as he looked to the Unggoy.

"Sangheili soldiers get fed same thing. Be happy it's not trough slop." One responded, continuing his task to the letter.

When Jora got his 'ration', he would hesitantly open the lid. Being of the first, the scent wafted over his many nostrils and simultaneously burned his eyes, both from smell and from whatever 'fumes' had been contained in there. Other boys opened their cups up and had similar reactions. Some even dropped the container which resulted in an irritated clatter of curses from the Unggoy. "Stop dropping food!" he hissed, handing a new container to each of the boys who dropped their food.

"Commander's orders, 15 minutes to eat and digest before more Physical." The Unggoy spoke as his comrade turned the cart around and started back towards the door. "Anyone else who drops food goes hungry!"

And the crustacean creatures hauled out after that. Even if someone had spilled their rations, they likely wouldn't have had time to get a new cup.

"Well, I guess cheers." One boy said. His little group had already circled around him and they were all chugging the vile slop. Other rings had done the same and before Jora realized it, Topil, Zetra, Wuiled, and surprisingly Damerit had all joined in a circle with him.

"I hope this isn't what we have to drink all the time." Damerit huffed out in disapproval. He would give the mixture one more sniffs before groaning out and jerking his snake head back. "Smells like a 10 day old Kig Yar pit with no showers." He groaned out.

"Only 10? I'd say at _least_ 50" Topil chided, ribbing the slightly smaller dark gray boy. "Maybe even more!"

"Hey at least we get food!" Zetra spoke, bringing his arms out into a more exaggerated form of a shrug. "From our work out this morning, I was kinda worried!"

"Mr. Positivity here." Damerit huffed, but soon found a glare from Wuiled.

"We should be rather lucky." His brown snake like head looking around the group with an almost calming tone to his voice. "How many of us faced death back on High Charity?"

There were a few quiet nods, only Zetra seemed perplexed. "Wait, all of you were in the rebellion mess?" he asked, the entire miss colored heads turning to stare him down.

"You weren't?" Jora asked skeptically.

"No, my mum signed me up. I mean granted I was kinda standing in the hoof prints of my brothers, but I mean, I thought I was doing alright." Zetra said, still keeping his head tilted slightly and mandibles drawn in, indicating confusion.

"Well, how can you know now?" Topil asked, finally deciding to sip some of the awful mixture. Though he found himself presently surprised. "I mean you can't go back."

"True." Zetra responded, not seeming to be terribly broken up. "Ah well, I'm here now right? Not following any hoof steps even if my mum basically signed me off." He said, his tone seeming a touch more bitter. But he swallowed whatever was bothering him.

"To…no regrets then?" Wuiled spoke as he held out his lunch, keeping a firm grip with his right hand. Topil raised his, Jora did the same and soon Zetra and Damerit followed. They all repeated the word _'No regrets'_ and tilted their heads back to drink.

Despite the foul odor, Jora was delighted to taste traces of citrus, fresh meat, and even something a bit sugary. Though that odor still had its power, it was more of a chemical taste in the aftermath, which leads the young boy to question what all was in it. He decided he would ask later, but his memory wouldn't last near long enough when 15 minutes seemed to race by.

* * *

The following days were simple and almost seemed dull after a point. Wake up early, run around the base, calisthenics and cardio, then more running, lunch, running, weight training, sparing, more running, dinner, then to finish the day off with classes. The running got tedious after a while, but each day had made Jora feel like he could run a few seconds long then he could before. Sometimes he even felt he could catch up to the group, but usually it wasn't something he could do.

What made his day were the classes. A reason to flex his mental strength. So far the only things they had covered were basics of the Covenant history, theology, and of course, a little bit of reading and writing as most Sangheili parents would let their children learn how to read from just being in their surroundings and eventually fine tune everything.

On top of boring reading, there were language course, of which Jora found more challenging and thus more interesting. The primary languages learned were mostly Covenant based. Understanding the various dialects of Jiralhanae and the roots behind them. Unggoy chatter speak, though really no one could actually mimic the sounds, just learn to understand it. By far however, the class was interested in the language of the humans. Just the main one though.

"It's called, English." Their instructor spoke, one of the blue armors who was well into his sixth decade by now and needed more relaxing tasks within Covenant forces. "It's a fascinating language." He spouted on, bringing his hand to the holographic board that projected to each desk.

The desks were spread out in a similar structure to the assembly hall that Jora remembered still so vividly. The desks sat 4, and each row had nearly 13 desks. The little group he associated with was near the nosebleeds, having gotten there a bit later because again the darkest boy had been struggling to keep up with his group during Physical. Down below the sloping auditorium were the other cadets from the other teams. The instructor was way down below; having a desk of his own and a large board he currently stood at to draw. It was no different than any other class, just larger and the need to accommodate such a large group.

"English is comprised of what the humans have called their alphabet. 26 characters they created from ancient history and formatted to eventually become complicated and almost universal among the UNSC" the instructor spoke, the four letters standing out in the thick accent of the Sangheili language. "You remember learning the 26 characters I hope, but now we are going to form words with them. Then we will learn their language, grammar policies, and eventually speak it."

Jora fidgeted in excitement. He didn't know why, but he took to learning the other languages so well, he expected this one to be easy as well. He was wrong within the first hour of class. Of course he was trying to understand the applications of the letters thrown in together in such a haphazard format was near impossible

"Jora," he announced but the instructor replied with a _'who'_ which made the young boy remember what they had been trying to drill in their heads all week. "026, sir." He corrected, receiving a nod. Jora continued from there and lowered his hand. "Is 'Y' a vowel or not?"

"It can be." The instructor responded timely. He would step back and begin to explain in length. "If 'Y' is the beginning of a word, we see it as a consonant. Any other time, it's a vowel." The Sangheili way down below instructed as he wrote that down on the board for others to see. He would leave it up and continue his lecture. "Now, we know that each individual letter has its purpose, especially the pesky vowels and the rules of 'I' and "E". Pesky little things." The instructor spoke, and on and on he would drone from there, explaining the rules for those two letters and only then starting to throw the curve ball of actually having the cadets put together words.

"089" one cadet spoke, after he was called on. He would lower his hand and cast a look back to Jora. "Why do we need to learn the human's English? It seems rather pointless" he asked. The higher up Sangheili boy bubbled with disgust, stood up abruptly and glared the 089 down. Jora then could see the red band around his arm, the color signifying the 'Infantry'

"If you had _any_ common sense,089," Jora started to hiss, feeling his friends tugging at his sore arms. "Then you'd know that learning the language of the humans lets us potentially understand COMM chatter!"

"026, sit down!" the instructor barked, but Jora ignored him.

"Or maybe even communicate with the damn things! Understand what they are yelling at us as we push a sword through their throats!" Jora continued, glancing over to see the Instructor making his way up the stairs rather quickly. Still he ignored the movements and continued to spout out reasons why it made a difference.

"Think about it, you ignorant fool, what would we as a Covenant be if we didn't learn to speak other languages! Some of _us_ couldn't even speak to each other because the Sangheili have different dialects!"

"So I've heard, _lunar runt_!"

Jora bristled again, and he didn't wait any longer. His friends would clamber at his hooves, but by then he had already leapt over the desk they sat at and would continue to travel down. Essentially, Jora cleared three or four desks and slightly to the left from where he started before he finally lunged at the unsuspecting boy, too busy laughing at his insult. Jora wasn't entirely clear on what he was doing. He felt someone on his back and wheeled around to punch them, but had a large hand shoved over his face and forcing his remaining mandibles in awkward positions.

Next thing he remembered was standing up from a good few yards away and seeing the Instructor standing as a barrier. Between his armored legs, Jora could see 089's comrades picking him up and asking if the boy was alright. There were some welts and bruises already forming from what he gathered were punches to shoulders, face, and chest. 089 still remained on the ground, groaning a little as his back had been shoved against the desk, likely just from the force of Jora hitting him.

"To your mentor, Cadet!" the instructor barked.

Wide orange eyes went to the taller figure. Jora was still amped up from whatever rush came over him. The Instructor repeated himself and gestured to the main door where everyone had shuffled into a few hours prior.

This time Jora would huff out. Kick his hooves underneath him and rise up, adjusting the loin cloth and giving a lasting glare to the fallen Cadet.

* * *

Most kids would have been hesitant about knocking on the door of a Commanding officer, likely even terrified to approach an adult at all. But Jora didn't hold regard to ranks outside of respect. His little hand came to the closed door with a sign titled 'Commander' written in the odd symbol language of Sangheili.

"Come in" he heard the stern growling voice speak from behind the gray wall. Soon it would push aside to the right and Jora stepped through. The space was basically an office and bunk all in one. A small open desk sat in the middle, while a cot rested to its left. There was hovering chair, but it seemed to be resting in its pedestal just at the corner of the room. Next to it stood a small table that was coated in data pads. The entire room was like the rest of the ship, somewhat battered in its gray coloration, but at least there was plenty of lighting.

The obvious male Sangheili moved out from his desk where he once stood, his feet visible while his head had remained focused on something laying on the dull surface, likely a report of what Jora had done. The Commander walked around and stood opposite the bed while shaking his head at Jora. "You know better" was all he said, the tone still stern, but having an edge that the boy wasn't familiar with. Not anger, but disappointment.

"I don't care if I do or not, he called me a lunar runt" Jora defended, standing tall even if he was maybe a fourth of the size of the adult.

"Yet you were born on High Charity" The commander retorted, tilting his head to one side as if not understanding, then he nodded in silent affirmation.

"Doesn't matter" Jora quipped, drawing his remaining mandibles together. He knew what lunar runt meant. It was a derogatory term he heard before essentially meaning he was lesser to other Sangheili because he was born on one of the few lunar outposts that resided in Sangheili space. Jora had always been told he hatched on High Charity, but the term still made him angry.

"And that made you angry?" The commander asked, still in that tone that almost made Jora feel guilty.

"It's the reason I charged him, yeah" he admitted, shrugging his shoulders in an exaggerated expression.

"So what made you angry initially?" The commander responded, now deciding to get to Jora's level and take a knee. The boy could see from behind the helmet there was gray skin around forest green eyes. But that was about all.

"He said learning English was useless. That it was a waste of time." Jora said

"And you said it wasn't?"

"Of course not!" the boy snapped back, his upper teeth flared as the small amount of lip pulled back. "Just like any Covenant language, who knows what we can use to fight the humans!" he added, stamping his hoof down and hearing that rather dull and unimpressive 'thunk' from it.

The Commander sighed, stood up and walked past Jora without much of a word. He walked to the foot of his cot, lifting up a small wooden sphere. Though it was easily palmed by the adult's gloved hands, when it was given to Jora, he noticed it was deceivingly large.

"This is an Arum." He spoke, taking a pace back and gesturing Jora to leave. "If you get to the treasure inside, then come back" The commander explained as he moved once again behind his desk. "Until then, if you get angry again, I want you to think about solving how to get the treasure. If that doesn't work, then recite this: _'By the blood of my father, I stand here as an achievement, not a sin. I stand to fight for my family's honor and future sons. I stand to learn the meaning of the Journey. I stand with my past behind me, regretting nothing'_ " the commander recited and then he would return to his work without further word.

Jora didn't quite understand the meaning of it all. It made sense sure, but why was that something he had to say. Does it mean something? He wondered on his way back to the class, though by now everyone was likely in the barracks. A passing blue armor would confirm that, the Sangheili boy wandering through the hallways while staring at the large wooden ball. He ran his hand over it. There were intricate markings over its entirety, comprising of pentagons, irregular shaped hexagons some elongated sides making them more like rectangles, others with some appearing more like strange trapezoids. Inside each groove there appeared to be darker wood, sometimes cutting in angles to show even darker wood beneath.

He rolled it in his palms for a while, looking it over and testing with a few taps here and there. Jora couldn't deny he was indeed curious, but at the same time he was rather perplexed. He couldn't understand how this would help whatever it was supposed to help. Nevertheless he slowly walked his way back to the barracks, testing and toying with the sphere the entire way, but never doing much more than rotating the outer shell, or at least that's what he assumed it was.

* * *

He couldn't tell how late it was by the time he did manage to saunter back. Topil stood waiting by the door with Zetra, both talking over who even knew what. When his mottled gray head turned to Jora, his eyes went wide in realization of who it was. "Where have you been?" he asked promptly, looking to the sphere. "What's that?"

"An Arum." Jora answered, his tone quiet, but out of focus more over shame.

"Arum?" Zetra piped up, looking the device over. "I hate those things."

"What is it?" Jora questioned, looking from the sphere back to his comrade.

"It's a puzzle. You twist the sphere in a certain way and when all the layers line up, you get something." The light colored boy explained, making a gesture with his hands on how the twisting was supposed to work. Even still, Jora didn't understand how that shifted the other layers.

"What's inside? All I was told it was treasure." He replied, giving it a twist and feeling just the smooth gliding.

"I don't know, I never got into one and my brothers would never tell me." Zetra replied with a click of his mandibles, the indication of a shrug.

Jora's amber hues fell back to the device. He twisted it again, swore he felts something, but wasn't sure what. He twisted it again and felt a small click somewhere inside. But he couldn't decipher exactly what that meant either.

"Ok, so now that we have that, what did they do to you?" Topil interrupted, snapping Jora out from his focused state and up to the small gathering. Wuiled and Damerit had decided to show up, walking from their bunks and holding the familiar cups with gray fluid.

"He just asked me what happened." Jora said as he recounted the moment. "Told me to say something if I got mad, then gave me this." He added, holding up the arum for the other two to see. Wuiled tilted his large head while the smaller Damerit scoffed and crossed his arms. "See my mentor practically chewed my head off. I thought for a while I was in a sparring match."

Jora flicked his remaining mandibles and tilted his head, a sign he didn't understand and a silent questioning at the same time.

"After you were moved off, 089 kept going." Wuiled explained, deciding to pull up one of the man stool like structures around the area and seat himself. "Said that you were a hot blood, and all that."

"You got him pretty good" Zetra chimed in, "Looked like you busted his eye."

" _But_ ," Topil stopped, his concern showing. "Damerit here decided that the hot blood thing wouldn't fly. So he hauled around the desk, under the instructor's legs and got a good beating on 089 too." He added on, his head snaking over and eyes glaring down the nonchalant victor.

Jora noted there were some bruises that dotted his skin purple and blue in some areas around his chest and arms. All were large markings, something Jora understood as what the mentor and maybe even the instructor did, not 089. He couldn't help join in the concern. "Are you sure you're alright?" he asked, taking a half step forward and tilting his head up. With Jora being the shortest one in the entire Spec group, he often had to look up to everyone.

"Nothing new." Damerit dismissed, waving his left hand a bit and then crossing it back over his chest. "Like I said, it was like a spar match. Looks worse than it hurts." And he flicked his mandibles some, the skin around his left shoulder twitching ever so subtly, but Jora still saw it.

Yet he wouldn't call Damerit out on it, just give him a look and sigh out.

"Did I miss anything after 089 was taken to med bay?" Jora asked finally, looking to the others to see if he saw nodding heads.

"Not really." Wuiled spoke, shifting on his stool a bit. "And they didn't take him to med bay. His mentor came in right in front of the class and said he got what he deserved and walked off."

"Seems like you've made even more friends now." Topil said out of turn.

"More friends?"

"Yeah, some of the other cadets cheered you on. Didn't you hear?" Zetra asked.

"No."

"Blacked out again?" Topil asked, showing concern again in his tone. "Does your mentor know?"

"Why do you think he gave me this thing?" Jora quipped, giving the mottled gray boy a sideways glare and holding up the sphere for him to see. He still hadn't stopped fiddling with it. The whole times his hands toying over the object. Never though did he feel another click.

"Still." Wuiled remarked, receiving a half glare from Jora. "You should mention it."

Jora would just become silent. His remaining mandibles were drawn tight and his eyes were focused on the symmetrical grooves on the floor. He wouldn't say anything, except hope that his silence would have the subject dismissed. Zetra shifted uncomfortably and then offered a sealed ration.

"We uh…saved you dinner." He spoke quietly, afraid someone would give him a glare if he spoke. "Damerit had to pretend he knocked over his ration to get it."

"Stupid Unggoy" the mentioned boy chuckled as he tilted his head back to drink some of his own.

Jora quietly reached for the ration and grasped the cup. He idly noticed in that brief second the definition in his dark arms. The way the bluish lighting shone on the dark skin gave his almost twig like arm a ripple of muscle. Not something he was familiar with. While his arm was brought back to the center of his body, he looked around to the group for a moment. Damerit had a similar groove, the line stretching from his bony elbow on to his wrist. Topil had an almost triangular line running on either shoulder while Wuilied and Zetra were already showing broad chest muscles.

Again he didn't say anything. The others had continued on in idle conversation by then, the other four figuring Jora had just gone into one of his quiet thinking moments. He walked over to his cot, brushing gently past Wuiled and Damerit before weaving his way in and out through other Spec cadets. He noticed the muscle definition on them as well.

 _It's only been a week,_ he pondered to himself, approaching his cot and setting the arum down on his pillow. He turned to where he faced the opposite direction of his cot, sitting on one of the long sides and staring at his food. He brought his claws to the cap, popped it and tilted his head back to let the foul smelling mush slide down his throat. _How are we already getting stronger?_

He decided there was no real answer. With it already being late, it was no surprise the mentors called lights out. Jora finished his shake quickly, grimacing at the overwhelming smell before setting the empty container on the table at the foot of his bed. He moved the arum aside for now, wrapping his lower half in the thin soft blanket and turned over on his left side while his neck and head rested against the pillow. His hands found the ball again, teased and tested each little motion as everything went dark; the only lighting coming from the one light over the main barracks door and the other near the bathroom and showers.

Deciding he didn't need the light, Jora simply closed his eyes and let his hands work over the object. He felt it click a time or two, but couldn't really remember what happened. It wouldn't be until the next morning that he realized he fell asleep cuddling the ball as if it were a stuffed toy.

* * *

The Commander stirred as he heard a chime from his data pad. He couldn't decipher when he had nodded off, but he soon remembered that he was reading over reports of the day. He vaguely recalled letting his helmet rest against his fist, which had now left his entire right arm numb from the prolonged weight. He stood slowly, hearing the chime again and looking back to the data pad. A step and a half later and he stood at the open desk, looking to see the message coming from the Minister.

 _To: /Commander Grelar 'Ndulamee_

 _From: / Minister of Safeguard_

 _Subject: / Field Test_

 _:/ ATTN: LVL BETA ENCRYPTION \\\:_

The Commander entered in the 26 character code for Beta Encryption levels, rolling his eyes as he was almost certain that the message didn't contain important enough contents for such. In fact he suspected there to be a fair amount of dithering.

 _/: Commander_

 _While I understand you have only begun training the cadets, I would like to inquire about setting up a field test in the future. I know that breaking the cadets in has been top priority, discipline training and easing them into their new life, but The Hierarchs do want to see results. The resources it has taken so far has them asking for clear timelines, answers I don't have so early in._

 _I expect some beginning stages of a field test in the near future. We cannot delay on the final product any longer as the military might of the Covenant can only grow at a snail's pace. With the Demons slaughtering so many, it has become a chore for the species to replenish the fallen. While there are other technologies being developed, I'm sure you understand the importance of your project however as it is the most risky, but will have the highest payoff…/_

The Commander let out a heavy sigh. There was more, but it was the usual blithering mess that the Minister left. He knew what he wanted in the long run and sent a reply to the message that he had indeed read it. It was a practice he never got in the habit of until he started working directly under the Minister. He feared the day a new Safeguard minister came around and composed lengthy paragraphs with actual information.

For now, there was little the Commander could do. He had intended a field test any way and was scheduled to begin set up a two months advance. But that was when he was certain the Cadets could function as a team and not as they were.

Though he couldn't expect any different from five year old boys.


	5. Chapter 4

_**Chapter 4**_

 **0832 hours, September 24, 2532 (translated calendar)**

 **Ministry of Safeguard Training Facility Sector 2**

 **Noble Shadows**

 **Star System Classified**

"Cadets, in line!" the lead red armor barked. The growing boys did as such, scrambling from all sides of the gym like room and forming two perfectly straight lines of seventeen that spread across the room lengthwise. There was no organization to numbers, but rather rank. Surprising as it was, there were squad leaders and even a few higher ranks among the squad leaders. The highest belonged to an upstanding 'pure breed' from Sangheilios. One of the sons of a late kaidon. His charge was over the 5 other squad leaders. The boss to the bosses. Though really his rank meant nothing to the Covenant, it was but a way to establish a chain of command within a group of thirty four children.

"Spec Lead!" the red armor Sangheili barked, the pure breed stepping forward. Jora read his arm band as '206', his name being only his title and number, as the children have grown generally accustomed to over the past year and a half of their harsh training. "Tour around the ship." The Zealot instructed as the meter and a half tall child stepped forward. "Improve yesterday's time and then lead the group in combat SIM."

"Yes sir!" the cadet saluted, closed right hand over the left side of his chest and a slight bow of his light gray head.

The zealot dismissed himself and moved off to the line of other mentors, there being less blue armors present as the Commander's squadron thinned more and more each passing month. Now assigned to Spec group stood a red armor and only sixteen blues for mentors. Really though, they were the last measure for discipline. The groups were so self sustaining; the only time they stepped in was because cadets fought to a point where there was serious injury to the other. Of course, this was an event that happened frequently and had oddly enough been encouraged by the mentors and commanders.

"Specs! Fall out!" 206, called out. He would turn and take lead, the rest of the group falling out in the two lines starting from the far left of the group. They would all stay within arm's reach of each other, one arm to the Spec next to you, one for front and one for back. Outside height differences and color variations, the group appeared like one moving entity. The unity solidified with the leader starting up a fond human pastime for running in unison. And of course, since humans had apparently become the focus of Spec group's study, they sang every cadence in English.

'Runnin' down these long gray halls' the leader started up, the rest of the group repeating in the strong accents of their kind. 'Borin' as hell and life's no fun'.

Jora rolled his eyes really. He refused to repeat the cadence, and instead just focused on the pounding of thirty four hooves clattering through the halls. With the other voices, no one could tell he wasn't singing except the person in front of him. Wuiled didn't really care truthfully and despised the exercise as much as everyone else. 'Down a lit'le further and to the left, keep on marchin' till hooves are bled.'

"Jora" a voice whispered behind him suddenly. He resisted stopping and turning, but would still cant his head slightly to indicate he was listening. "Did you ever figure out that Arum?" the voice asked, of course it was Zetra and of course he would ask something like that. Everyone in Specs had been expected to mingle with other groups. The Commander's way of finding out who worked with whom so he could continue assigning squads together. Jora, Damerit, and Topil had all been told to work with two other boys for the past half month.

"Not really no." he admitted with a huff. His panting was barely noticeable now, but though he had some stamina built up, eventually his able to draw full breaths would slow him down. "That 045 is a chatter box. Worse than you if it seems possible." Jora felt a fist against his shoulder. A playful strike that brought a smirk to the darker boy's remaining mandibles. "Kidding."

"Doesn't matter. Our team hasn't been together in how long?"

"Two weeks." Jora replied dully, looking ahead to Wuiled's back. "Commander said we have another two before he decides."

"Are you kidding?" the large boy asked as he tilted his head back. His large figure and broad shoulders kept Jora from seeing the front of the group, though truly he didn't want to know how far behind he was. "How long does it take to figure out that you three don't get along with the other two?" Wuiled asked his usually calm demeanor strangely absent.

"Maybe he's forgotten?" Zetra spoke, flickering his mandibles in a sign of irritation, the sound more obvious than the sight of it. "I mean if I have to listen to that pompous nut case go on about how fantastic the rations are, I'll find an energy pistol and shoot him."

"Easy." Jora said as he slowed his pace a little to get Zetra's attention. "I'm sure there's a good reason for what the Commander is doing, we just have to bide our time."

"Where is Damerit and Topil?" Wuiled asked, catching the slowdown in pace by the distance of Jora's voice.

"Further up. I'm supposed to be up there, but I snuck back to check on you two." The darker and smaller boy explained. "Kinda hard to go two weeks without even being near my bunkies, is it?"

"Flattery isn't your strong suit, 'Moram" Wuiled replied with an obvious chuckle in his slowly deepening voice.

"You two are on your own with the weirdest group of misfits outside us. If your other two are as bad as the two we are paired with, then I can't imagine the time it's been." Jora sighed. It was easy to say that in the year and a half, he had grown rather attached to his new family, more so the four others he spent so much time with.

In the past, it had been coincidence that they all came together and lingered. But other boys had done a similar thing. When 'team' assignment began, the current 5 groups had been compromised of members that got along with one another better than the rest. This meant some of the preformed gaggle of friends often had to be split. Teams trained together and did everything together, even sleep in the upgraded barracks. As it was, Jora's little group and the four remaining had yet to officially be assigned, so there had been switching between the two groups which left animosity. Especially since one of the individuals Jora had been paired with was in fact the Spec's current leader.

"So does he practice the cadences?" Zetra asked, jarring the darker colored boy's train of thought.

"He does." Jora admitted. "But I've been the one coming up with the rhythm."

Wuiled snorted a little, not surprised yet not willing to comment on it. Jora ignored it for the moment; especially given this wasn't typical behavior for the big guy.

The conversation would die off from there. Not from a lack of what to talk about, but more over Jora's returning inability to breath, run, talk, and think all at the same time. He would focus on the march of hooves; feel the beat resonate through his chest cavity as it bounced around the metal hallways and rooms they ran through. There might have been a time where Spec group passed one of the others, but since a few fights between the groups, everyone had been separated to newly opened parts of the slowly reviving Carrier class cruiser.

A lot had changed since Jora had come to his new home. He figured there was more change on the way as there always would be. Though the biggest change he had noticed was in everyone else. When everyone came, they were small five year old Sangheili children. Most were unruly or were just unable to trust one another. While that hasn't changed, it was kept quiet and between cadets. To the mentors and the commanders, teams would work perfectly with one another.

But the biggest change Jora could see was not just the changes of attitude. Most were on their seventh year now. While Jora can say he couldn't compare someone his age that hadn't been through the training, he knew well that being about chest level with the adults couldn't have been normal. Then there were other physical attributes. Wuiled was broad, nearly twice as wide as Zetra, one of the leaner built boys in the Specs. Topil stood a head shorter than an adult. Damerit's aggression had gone through the roof as well, making him nearly twice as brash as normal. It was only him that stood from the group.

Sure, Jora was bigger, near twice his size from when he first came to join. He had gotten broader in his shoulders and chest, but he felt just as ungainly as ever. Almost like he was too tall or just not well balanced enough. Though he did see some change, only within himself

Since that day he had been given the arum, he played and teased the stupid sphere. Time and time again he had been fooled. Sometimes he messed up the patterns, or forgot where he left it at and made an error to where he would have to scramble the whole sequence and start the patterns over. His only time to tease with it had been in the evenings, often when there was only an hour left before lights out and then he instinctively would fall asleep. Through all this though, he noticed that when his temper boiled his blood, he would still charge blindly. It was just a matter of what it took to get his patience to thin.

"Company halt!" the voice suddenly rang out, bringing the cadets to an almost immediate stop in their running. The group had all come to rest in the new training area. A large metallic gray rectangular room with various mechanisms and pieces of equipment, all meant to train the various groups in different abilities. Some groups focused more on certain areas than other. Lance team, which was made of lean and nimble boys, mostly worked with cardio, flexibility, and gymnastics for scouting. In contrast Shield and Grenade focused on strength and sheer power for defensive and operating heavy equipment like fuel rods. The Combat dummies and range were in separate rooms, along with a special antigravity training room that Jora had only seen, but never tested in.

But where every group was trained more to favor one field or another, the Specs group had to specialize in everything. They had the gym after the other teams, and they stayed and trained the longest, often skipping lunch entirely just to cram in everything they needed to learn or practice in a day. It was grueling work, and as the time had everyone had gotten skilled in their work, to a point it was deadly. Not for the Specs, but for the others around.

"Teams assigned, see your mentors for workout criteria." The leader barked while he looked to the remaining eight as everyone else had dispersed. "The rest of you, individual work with mentors today." He spoke as he looked over his shoulder and saluted his mentor.

Jora's remaining mandibles would draw in stiff. The last time he worked with the Commander, he could hardly move for 3 days. He remembered being the only one to head outside and see the jungle like planet the ship resided on. The hot sticky day he had spent crawling through the mud with insects biting at his hide. It was a miserable day to say the least, but he feared what was in store for him this time.

His head snaked around, saw the white armored commander and his piercing forest green eyes glaring him down as usual. Jora would salute him; receive a half head bow in return before he was gestured to follow. Wordlessly, the boy followed, knowing very quickly where he was headed as the hallways grew narrower and dimmer. A few long minutes had passed and the Commander keyed in a code outside a door, opening the entryway with a flood of bright light. The smells that came over Jora were intense. Fresh, but thick air filled his lungs and made him cough a few times and wheeze. Amber eyes struggled to focus the sunlight before he stepped through and followed the Commander onto the docks.

Around the ship a small civilization had grown, mostly of workers and their families as the ship was slowly being restored. The town sprawled out on port side of the carrier ship, stretching for a little over a kilometer before turning into farm lands and plantations. The buildings were largest towards the ship, standing a couple stories tall and made of the usual sleek gray metal that Jora had come accustomed to seeing. Moving down were marketplaces and homes for the workers, then a barrier that encompassed the entire ship, dock and town. Past that it was just farms, jungles, and untouched jungle.

"Sir," Jora started as he was seated on a bluish purple Phantom, a large transport ship that Jora thought vaguely looked like a bottom feeding crustacean with an iridescent sheen to its shell. "Am I slogging through the mud again?" he asked, watching the figure step up a half inch and walk to one of the seats toward the cabin. He gesture the boy to sit nearby and Jora did as instructed.

"Perhaps." The commander replied cryptically. Jora felt his hearts sink to his hooves, but he would remain silent and place hands in his lap.

The Phantom would soon hover smoothly as it went off to the overlooking mountain. Soon after the side doors would raise and then seal tightly, only then did the Commander turn to the cadet and remove his helmet. It wasn't the first time he had done as such, but typically when he did, bad things were to happen. The forest green eyes would still stand out from dark ringed eye sockets. The rest of the snake like head sported gray wrinkled skin with a few scars accenting the strong hinged jaws. Despite the strong brow, the gaze Jora received was softer than normal, a real bad sign for the cadet.

"I'm sure you've heard some rumors floating around about the other squads going on missions." He started off, his tone flat and almost concerning. Jora would nod his head, but say nothing. He had heard some gossip about how the Lance group had gone missing for a while, or Infantry seeming a bit smaller in its ranks. But since separation of squads, he didn't know what was going on without listening to mentors. "Then you should know Spec group is the only group that hasn't had a mission."

"Sir, I haven't been that aware. I've only heard rumors." Jora said, trying to sound respectful, but hearing his tone came off with a hint of attitude and mistrust.

"Well, now you are aware. And there is a reason I have left you and your team apart for so long." The Commander said as he turned his head to stare at the opposite side of the room. Jora tilted his head in confusion, not entirely sure what the plan was in separating only part of his group from the other. But again he would simply remain silent, waiting for instructions or a punch line. Whichever came first.

"The 9 of you that have remain all show potential for being ranking officers over the entire program. While there are a few who are from other groups, their specializations limit them from holding ranking positions for now." The commander explained, drawing his gaze back to the boy. "And as you may be aware, the Covenant likes to test its individuals and as Sangheili nature goes, you must earn your rank before you can receive it. Since you are but children still…we have to pull a few strings." And there was a smile to the strong jaw. A little quirk of the strong cheeks around the adult's face and a twitch of an upward curl near the beginning of upper mandibles.

Jora still felt confused, but he felt that the small show of humor was a bit comforting. "So I'm going to get dropped off somewhere in the Jungle and told to do something. And in order to prove myself, I have to accomplish this thing?"

There was a pause and a half chuckle. "I forget how smart you are." The commander remarked, letting that smile fade. "But you are correct." He added as his left hand pulled out a holo pad. He would set it nearby on the floor and tap it gently with an armored hoof. The map flickered to life in an aura of green and displayed a map of what appeared to be a box canyon. Inside appeared to be dense rainforest, with a few peaks and spires of smaller mountains. The canyon itself was irregularly shaped, being somewhat rectangular, but with a jagged section that snaked its way back toward the large surrounding mountains. Jora would look over the layout, unsure of how large this area was, but still trying to remember the layout as the map circled. Unfortunately, outside the features, he couldn't see through the dense forest, nor could he establish directions.

"This is where you're going to be. Your team will be spread out throughout the canyon at different times for the next twenty four hours." The commander started. Jora felt his bottom of his gut fall. That long meant he was stuck out there for longer than a day. Maybe several, possibly even longer. He couldn't know. "You have one objective and whether you accomplish it alone or with your team is entirely up to you. There is a Zealot out there. He has been tasked to hide from you. All you have to do is catch him."

"Catch… a Zealot?" Jora repeated in disbelief. He didn't know if it was possible really. All the red armors of the Noble Shadows were ranking Zealots. The commander was one as well. From what he had been trained and taught, Jora knew Zealots were masters of stealth and of their fields. Not exactly impossible to find, assuming they didn't use their cloaking device.

"There is no time limit; the Zealot has been instructed to communicate to me whenever he is captured or until he finds nine dead cadets." The commander explained, ensuring he kept Jora's eye contact. "He will not attack you and he cannot leave the box perimeter, which will be marked with electromagnetic barriers."

"So we couldn't cross them even if we wanted to?" Jora asked.

"It's more to keep him honest. The barrier will short out his armor's electronics if he did. But the barrier is visible" he replied casually. The commander would tap the map again with his hoof and the image would promptly dissipate.

Jora would shift uncomfortably in his seat. While the task was indeed daunting, he felt more unnerved by his lack of anything. Sure he had some speed and strength and his wits, but in terms of what he had to protect him, it was just his claws and the loin cloth that everyone wore. Even with it, Jora still felt overheated, his remaining mandibles spread while he panted a little harder than normal as his body tried to cool. "An inquiry." He finally voiced after a moment of thought. "What have I to defend myself?"

"All I'm allowed to provide you is this." The commander replied, reaching up into one of the many storage compartments the Phantom possessed for weapon storage. He pulled out an odd looking device, an ornate handle of some sort with a center prong. "Use this sparingly. I cannot give you a battery for it, nor would I expect you to be able to find one." The adult explained. He held it firmly. His two fingers on either side of the center prong and thumbs wrapped around. "There is a pressure plate on the inside of the hilt, press it with your fore finger when you want to activate the weapon." The adult explained. Cautiously he would turn the hilt in his hand and offer it to the boy. Jora tentatively reached out took the strange object and held it just as he saw the Commander did.

"Activate it." The white armor spoke as he stood up and moved to another set of compartments on the opposite side of the Phantom's small bay. He would fish around for a few things; pull out a small leather pack and what appeared to even be a black suit and armor. Jora ignored that for a moment, turned his attention to the hilt and held it up with the center prong pointed to the ceiling. The pressure plate wasn't easy to find, but Jora knew when he found it. A whooshing sound filled his ears and in a millisecond the dark space before him turned a whitish blue. He knew what he was looking at now, the famous two pronged Energy Sword that many Sangheili warriors carried. It crackled with energy, the white ghostly light irresistible to stare at. Jora felt a rush of power, a sudden desire to watch the twin prongs burn through some helpless thing.

"Jora." The commander called. The boy found it hard to rip his eyes away, soon found staring at the light left him momentarily night blind. His eyes would adjust to the dim lighting, only to see the white armor before him. "I told you the battery doesn't last long." He explained, reaching out and switching the blade off. He would try to pry it from the boy's hands but gave up quickly when thumbs and fingers wrapped a little tighter.

There was a moment of just silence and staring, however the Commander's concerns would wash from his face as he held out a black suit. "Change into this. I'm sorry if it doesn't fit right, these are meant for Kig Yar, not Sangheili." The adult explained.

There was a second or two where Jora hesitated to set the hilt down. When he finally did Jora would give it a long stare, as if afraid it would get up and walk away had he not some sort hold on it. He would stand at that point, taking the suit by the baggy shoulders and just feeling it over for a moment. It was thick and well padded. Jora worried if he would suddenly collapse of heat by putting it on, but when the Commander turned, he knew there wasn't an option. While the adult had his back to him, Jora would quickly untie the gray fabric around his waist. Uncertain of what to do with it, he tossed it near the hilt for now. It took a moment to find how to get in, but soon he realized there was a magnetized slit that ran up the entire spine.

Never having to get in something like this before, he fumbled with the thick material. First he tried to just slip it on, but found the leathery suit would cling to his hooves, almost as if it felt his skin and grabbed him tightly. Jora took his hoof from the leg, realizing it was the wrong one anyway and tried something else. He sat down on the bench again, realizing how cold the metal was on his backside and wanting to stand again.

This time he fed his right leg into the material's own leg, working it slowly and feeling the suit start to grip around him. He hurried himself, digging his claws into the material and pulling it up as quickly as he could. It took a moment or two for him to figure out what to do with the actual split in his hooves. Kig Yar had three clawed toes with an additional vestigial claw on the back of their foot. Sangheili simply had cloven claw like hooves. Naturally the suit wouldn't fit so Jora would try to move on despite how wrong it felt.

Jora repeated the motion again, still feeling weird as he stood up to get his arms through. While it was a bit easier, the fingers didn't line up, a remedy that came fast when the Commander turned and indicated Jora to wait a moment. His gloved hand would reach out, take Jora's own and tug on the material. His other reached for a small blade on the side of his hip. A simple motion later and the whole hand of the suit had been sliced off, the same happened to the other arm, still hanging limp around the boy's side. "Go ahead and finish." The commander spoke, his forest green eyes looking very briefly over the young form.

The Cadet felt a bit awkward. He wasn't naked really, but it still felt like he was with the way the suit clung to him. He slid his arm back through, did the same with the other and adjusted the material around his chest. Jora felt the magnetic strip snap in place suddenly, realizing the Commander had moved around him and guided the material to come together. "It feels weird." The boy said as he looked to his arms. The black leathery material cut off around the wrist, but it still would cling tightly to him.

"You'll get used to it. If it fit you better, you probably wouldn't even notice." The adult remarked as he did a quick look over before walking over to the pile of dark green armor. It looked like there was only a chest and back plate, and some armor for his thighs, and a little bit for his shoulders. Jora worried about how that would go on, but as the Commander approached and lined up the pieces, he felt the suit move and the armor would then cling to it. The weight was awkward, Jora had to tense his back and shoulder muscles to adjust to suddenly being held off balance on his already ungainly stance. The thigh armor also felt weird, like it was too tight. "Take it off." He said quickly.

"Too tight?" The commander asked, removing the armor as soon as he saw the single and firm nod from the cadet. "Does the chest armor at least fit?" the adult would ask while he tossed the thigh armor aside. Jora gave a slow nod, though it too was a bit tight and drawing in air wasn't easy. The commander seemed to have sensed that and removed both chest and back plates. The moment his chest felt freed, he'd draw in a deep breath, only to have it interrupted with a throaty cough. "Are you alright?" the adult ask, but still Jora took a moment to catch his breath and try to stop coughing

"Yeah." The cadet uttered through a raspy and airy voice. "This thick air never sat right with me." Jora admitted, trying to make light of the situation and return to his focus around the awkward suit.

"I wish I could help you with that. However if you can't wear the armor for this mission, you will have to be careful." The commander spoke as he looked to the discarded forest green armor. He wouldn't say anything more, let Jora get situated in the leathery suit for a moment. "Don't forget your sword." He reminded, looking back to the discarded loincloth.

Jora turned his head, feeling slightly constricted by the short collar of the suit. "Where do I put it?" he asked. He would walk over and pick up both items. The cloth he figured would have been useful as well so he would tie it around his waist again, if anything to give him some coverage so he didn't feel naked.

"There should be a magnetic strip on your waist." The commander indicated. "It's meant for armor, so it might be a bit tough to draw."

Jora rested the object on his left side, feeling it the more natural hand to hold it with. He would give it a test draw, fumbling a little just to get a hold over it and then actually pull it free, but he supposed speed would come later. "Ok, last question."

"Ask"

"When I have to…uh…you know"

The commander tilted his head for a moment and then made a little 'oh' sound. "Since you aren't wearing custom armor nor are you hermetically sealed like you would be normally, there should be emergency slats in the front and back." The commander explained. He was about to gesture to them, but refrained very quickly. "Well you have them in the uh…appropriate spots." He mentioned quickly, soon moving back to his seat to retrieve his helmet and place it back over his snake like head.

This behavior wouldn't go unnoticed to Jora, and he honestly couldn't figure out why it had been such a chore for the Commander, even to show hesitancy. He had seen how the other adults act; it didn't seem awkward for them. The cadet wanted to ask, but would draw his mandibles tight and decided to just find some other random thing to ask about to divert the subject.

"Ok, so may I ask about how big this place is?"

There seemed to be a breath of relief from the white armor. He would turn and look down to the cadet. "I can't say exactly, but the measurement is in kilometers." The adult responded, his normally stern tone returning.

"And when do I drop?" Jora asked.

He felt the Phantom shift, a sudden stop it felt like, then a feeling in his gut that he translated to a descent.

"Now it seems." The commander said, his head snaking to the doors as they opened slowly. The thick jungle air filled Jora's lungs again and while he tried not to cough, it just didn't help. Through the bay doors he saw thick ferns surrounding a tree line. Mud and grass sprawled out towards the ship and there were a few supply crates piled up to the aft side of the Phantom.

"Good luck." Was the last thing he heard from the commander as he felt a hand push against his back. Jora wanted to look back, but the push was almost a shove. Near stumbling out of the Phantom's metal floor, he caught his footing once he made contact with the ground. He wasn't sure if he should run or walk, so he picked up a jog toward the nearest supply crate. Engines roared and with a glance back over his shoulder; Jora could see the Phantom rise. He stood for a moment, watched it as it quickly hovered off past the towering tree line. Amber eyes caught the shimmer of patterns in the sky, hexagonal lines that seemed just barely visible in the greenish blue sky.

Jora turned his neck here and there, looking up and down and getting an idea of what he had to work with. The patterns in the sky were likely the shield the commander referred to. He could tell from the position of the large planetary mass and direction of the sun that it was close to night fall. The cadet muttered little notes to himself, things about what the directions were and the thick line of trees and vegetation he would have to trudge through. He then decided to wander over to the supply crates which were sealed tight. "Why are these here if I can't open them?" he asked himself.

With no answer coming quickly to mind, Jora abandoned the idea for now and decided to push through the undergrowth. At first the ferns and prickly bushes were difficult to maneuver past, but as he progressed further in, the canopy prevented sunlight from reaching the floor, which made vegetation sparse. All Jora worried over now was tripping over raised roots or stumbling in the muck of decomposing leaves and who could even know what.

The cadet traveled a few minutes before stopping at the roots of a massive tree. All of the trees were large, but this one stood seemingly taller than the rest while its thick ashy trunk seemed more bulbous. It had a few limbs lower than others which made Jora wonder if it was climbable. "Nothing ventured." He muttered to himself, as he took a few paces forward. He would walk around the tree and then set eyes on a low limb about a meter higher than he could reach. Jora knew a running start would make it easier to grab hold.

He walked back to the direction he came, and then squared off with the limb before making a dead sprint. His long legs would bound him forward about three steps before his forth dug in to the ground just a few inches from the base. The height was just enough for claws to sink into the bark, his hooves pushing against the trunk of the tree to give him an extra boost with the current momentum and before he knew it, Jora was panting heavy while sitting on the limb. His head snaked to the next limb and once he got his balance and legs under him, he would clamber to the next, stair stepping his way up higher and higher until he was above the tree line and the branches were near twice as thick as his torso.

Though nowhere near the top, it was high enough to get a vantage point. The limbs from where he was spider webbed out in all directions after that, giving Jora a surprisingly safe spot to next in for the night. The focal point was big enough to let him easily stretch out, maybe even have another Sangheili his size with him. The canopy of leaves a few meters above let only the last glints of daylight slip through, but even still, Jora was able to see bits of the horizon and mountains through the gaps of sticks and leaves. He didn't dare look down, knowing it was a long way if he could see over the other trees. Outside the long fall, it was safe. Jora figured there wouldn't be much that could bother him this far up outside the elements.

He brought his rear down, rested with his back against a limb. Jora hadn't been aware of how tired he was until his eyes eyelids felt heavy. When he dozed off he wasn't aware. For how long still he didn't know. There was a noise that jerked him awake. A tree limbs snapping and crashing to the forest floor. It was close, somewhere below him maybe. His hand grasped at the hilt of his sword as he rolled to his belly, cautious not to roll completely off while his eyes peered over the edge of the tree.

* * *

Something was moving below. It was massive, big enough to snap branches. Jora swore he caught sight of something, but wasn't sure what. It had fur or feathers and appeared to be a quadruped. However it was only a few glimpses through the trees below did he see this thing. Nothing solid until it came to the very base of the tree he rested in, only then did the moonlight show the beast.

While Jora had never seen a creature like it, he did identify it through its. The creature was mottled green and brown, it's hump like back resembling moss more over skin. It appeared to a long snake like neck that it was using to sweep both the forest floor and the tree trunks, occasionally grazing on fungus like substances before moving on and searching for more. While it was only a top down view of something that very much resembled a sauropod, Jora knew it to be a mammalian animal that usually stayed in swamps. It either meant this creature was lost or there was a marsh somewhere near which had the cadet worried. Tracking a Zealot through bog lands could prove harrowing and difficult, but he could only speculate at that point.

Whatever the case, he knew the beast below couldn't get to him, so he simply rolled back over and listened to it crash off through the brush and disappear around what he supposed to be an hour later. Ironically, with it being night time, nothing was quiet. The noise from the jungle drowned out Jora's concerned thoughts about his team or if they were really out there. He had supposed the Commander wouldn't lie to him; however he never did see another Phantom come through. It wouldn't have surprised him if one did slip through. The insects and amphibians were all calling out it was date night, whatever that meant. All Jora knew was it was hard to hear anything when he swore there was a tree cricket sounding off two inches from his ear at all times.

Yet despite the noise, he was still lulled to sleep, this time for considerably longer. When he finally came to waking up, the sun was halfway above the horizon and Jora winced from the glimmering light. Normally he would have been thrown out of his cot if he slept this long, but with the day's previous events coming to him, he wasn't sure if he should roll back over or get to moving. His muscles reminded him of the climb up and the climb down he had to soon make. His lungs screamed out for clean air rather than the humid stagnant jungle breeze. He let a groan slip out as he sat up, feeling an empty stomach and full bladder make themselves known. Though groggy, his eyes would look to the branches to find if this tree bore fruit. Of course it wouldn't.

With a sigh, Jora would relieve his aching bladder, only afterward deciding to climb down the tree the same way he came up. The trek seemed to take longer and consisted of many well calculated jumps and several heart racing moments of almost losing his footing. It was nearing midmorning by the time he finally had hooves touch the soil and roots of the large tree. His eyes immediately fell on the foot prints of the creature that stumbled through the night before.

They were four toed prints, appearing to stagger in one direction and overlap in others. Once the prints cleared the foliage, it was as if the creature had vanished entirely. Jora decided not to investigate further and would head the opposite direction the footprints went.

Jora wanted to find his team by that point, assuming they were out. But his growling stomach made it hard to focus on a plan. He had one forming, but there were still a lot of factors to consider. For starters, how big this place was and what else was out there.

The cadet kept a pace for a good while. He managed to find some berries and edible plants here and there, but it wasn't enough to appease his growing appetite. There were small mammals and reptiles crawling around, but how to catch one posed a problem. Most were so infested with intestinal parasites; it likely wasn't even worth the effort.

"There has to be something." He muttered again to himself, trying to think through his hunger aloud.

He heard a squeal after that. His instinct to duck down while his hearts leapt into his throat brought him to crouch and proceed toward the noise quietly. That notion to soon be quiet stopped when a boar like beast tore at him through the foliage. Jora rolled to one side, seeing the beast charge past him, scared for its life. Behind it ran a familiar black streak. Jora jumped up and peeled out after what he saw, struggling to make it through the disturbed vines and ferns. He felt he was about to lose whoever had ran through, but no sooner did he think of it, something reached out and grabbed his wrist.

His speed and sudden change in momentum meant his hooves slipped out from under him, the cadet landing on his back and being left winded. His vision of the green canopy above was foggy for a moment or two, but only when he came to focus did he see a familiar light gray head peering down from a dark leathery suit.

"Jora?" the familiar voice asked "I didn't realize someone could be so close!"

"Yeah, well here I am." The fallen boy coughed. He would turn to his side and then roll onto his feet. "Were you chasing that thing?" Jora asked.

"Uh-huh, I managed to get it caught in a snare, but it broke free in a panic." Zetra responded as he helped the larger cadet to standing. Jora's eyes went wide when hearing that. He had a great deal many questions, but the only one he had come to mind was; "Did you wound it?"

"I think so; I can smell its blood."

There was a brief pause of Jora staring Zetra down and vice versa. They both knew what they were going to do, but the trouble was just rousing the energy to do it. Zetra took off first after a second or two, peeling back through the undergrowth with Jora hot on his heels. The smaller cadet could move through much faster, it was clear he was able to hunt down and track the boar within a few seconds of them starting up.

"If ya can catch up to it and slow it down, then we can kill it!" Jora panted, seeing Zetra getting further and further away.

"I know! I heard it up ahead, it's on the run again." He heard the other's voice call back.

Eventually though, Jora's legs gave out. He collapsed on the muddy forest floor. His lungs were burning and stomach churned angrily from the exertion, enough to make Jora retch up little more than sticky phlegm. A few seconds had passed before he felt he could stand again, his shaky footing making him almost fall a time or two.

"Zetra?" he called out, hearing nothing but birds chirping and fluttering through the branches above. The scent of iron lingered heavy in the air, a good sign that Zetra had either caught the bore or something else. Jora brought his head up to sniff the air, try and find the strongest direction before traveling forward a few meters. The scent grew stronger and soon he heard voices.

"I thought you said Jora was with you." The familiar voice of Topil spoke. The cadet would quicken his pace, though felt the old injury of his right leg protest in the movement.

"He was!" the other defended. "He was right behind me before I caught this thing. He must have fallen or something."

"I'm right here." Jora said as he came through the undergrowth, limping a little as he moved. Topil's mottled gray head did a scan, soon though he would shake it and come forward to rest a hand on Jora's shoulder. "You look like you just decided to wallow in the mud."

Jora smirked. "I kind of feel like it."

"I caught the damn thing!" Zetra chimed in, likely feeling the need to point it out. "My mentor gave me a knife, so I can get this thing gutted and we can eat!"

"We need to cook it first." Topil interrupted. "And with it being so damp, how are we going to find firewood?"

A definite problem that Jora hadn't had much time to consider. "Topil, did your mentor give you anything?" he asked, tilting his head and looking the other two. The taller Topil only had the dark leathery suit like Jora did. But the other was able to fit in the full armor that was offered. Zetra had already gone to gutting the Unggoy sized boar, but he still paid close attention to the other two.

"An energy pistol." Topil replied, almost disappointed. "It only has half battery since I had something come at me last night. Some sort of swamp dweller I think.

"You saw it too?" Jora asked, receiving a tilt of the head from his comrade.

"Yeah, where were you?"

"In that huge tree. I spent the night there." Jora explained as he pointed right to it as it wasn't too

"Did you see how big this place was? All we were told was that it was several miles in terms of distance." Zetra spoke as he tossed aside some of the innards and went to cutting off the head.

Jora shook his head, receiving a shoulder slump from Topil and a scoff. "But if we all found each other so quick, maybe it's possible everyone else isn't far by." Jora suggested, looking back and forth to his team mates. "When were you dropped off?"

"Yesterday afternoon." Zetra said. "I was over by that mountain spire thing in the middle, so I just picked a direction and started wandering. That's when I found Topil and then the boar."

The other nodded his head. "I was put off further east right at the edge around nightfall. I traveled west and just happened to bump into Oddball." Topil remarked, crossing arms over his chest and looking carefully up through the canopy where the dim sun lighting managed to glimmer through now and again.

"So that means I was dropped off in the southern section of the map." Jora spoke, trying so hard to figure this out. He casually wondered how they went from needing a fire to where it was they were in the canyon. Regardless he knelt down in the mud, grabbed a nearby stick and retraced the map from memory. He made the characters for 'T', 'Z', and 'J along with a spiral shape in the middle and an odd spider web shape a little to the left of it. He drew an arrow pointing to his right and labeled it with the character of 'N' for north. "This is the mountain." He said pointing to the spiral. "And this is the tree I stayed at." He added, pointing to the spider web.

"And we were dropped off here and here" Topil said as he pointed to the other two characters. "And you here." He pointed to the 'J' symbol. "So if Zetra said this mountain was about the halfway point, it means we still have most of half of the box canyon to find our team."

"And the Zealot." Jora added, looking up. "The question really is, has the rest of the team been dropped yet?"

"So really the others could end up anywhere, even back where we started." Topil summarized while he brought a hand to run over his smooth head.

"Exactly. The Commander said they would drop everyone off in a span of 24 hours." Jora said.

"But it's almost been that amount of time" Zetra again chimed in as he stepped away from the bloody carcass to look over the map.

"But how do we know the Commander didn't give me false information? Or if there was a Phantom that was delayed to purposely throw us off?" Jora interrupted, his argument being valid, but a bit hard for the others to believe.

"Would he lie to us?" Topil asked, showing concern in his yellow eyes. Jora only shrugged. He didn't want to believe it possible, but he knew other mentors would sometimes give inaccurate information just to throw the cadets off.

"So what's our first move?" Zetra spoke when the silence got to him.

"Cook that bastard." Jora said as he pointed to the remains of the boar. "Eat, and then make a signal fire. There was a good clearing back where I was dropped, along with some crates." He explained as he stood to look to the other two. His hoof would scratch out the drawing, though he was sure there were hoof prints all over the place now. "We drag that with us, cook it and then make a signal fire using my loin cloth as tinder."

The other two drew eyes to the gray tattered and muddy cloth tied around Jora's waist, then back up. They would then look to one another and nodded. "Sounds like a good plan to me, Hot Blood." Topil teased.

Jora huffed at the little nickname, retorted with a growl of 'After you, Big brother' and followed after him. The three would easily be able to carry the boar. After figuring out the direction, they needed to travel in, it only would take around a half hour to find and get to the clearing.

After some collection of surprisingly dry firewood found just at the nearby edge of the force field, Jora sacrificed his tattered garment for the sake of survival. It would be only a matter of time before the Boar was cooked and never had any of them been so happy to find a meal that wasn't the foul smelling rations they were used to.


	6. Chapter 5

_**AN: Just as a warning, with school, full time work, working on a cosplay, and tumblr procrastination, chapters will be further apart. I will only publish a new chapter once it's predecessor is finish. This way I can at least be kind of a chapter ahead. Right now, Chapter 6 is almost done, but will not be posted until 7 is done.**_

 _ **Thank you for your patience!**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter 5**_

"How long has it been?" the voice of Zetra spoke up. With food having been devoured and full stomachs all around, it was hard not to let heavy eyelids get the better of the three cadets. Though the addition of nightfall hadn't helped; their seven year old bodies telling them it was time for bed.

Jora himself was lulled out of sleep with the voice. His back stood rested against one of the crates while the fire pit remained nestled in the ground a few meters away. The other two had taken up similar posts, moving the crates before hand to ensure their back wasn't to the open woods. It wasn't an ideal spot, but it worked.

"I dunno…" Jora hummed sleepily. He would shift; stretch out his back then his arms with a forceful groan. Only after would he glance around and realize the sounds air had become dense with humidity and the sounds of nighttime were more deafening. "Who dozed off first?"

There was a pause, Topil trying to remember what he had seen and Zetra simply blanking out. Jora could at least remember seeing the lighter gray cadet giving in, at least to a point where he stared ahead while lost in a day dream. Though despite asking, the question was never answered. Among the many things to be concerned about, who fell asleep first wasn't among them.

"I see the moons out." Topil spoke after deciding to look through the thick haze of the jungle around them. "One is about 2 and a half fingers from the eastern horizon and the other about 5" he explained.

Jora glanced up and tried to remember the passage of time and lunar charts of both moons on this planet, but he would only draw blanks. Had he seen the moons more than once, he would have a better answer. "It's just a guess, but _maybe_ an hour?"

"Who knows?

"It's been an hour and 25 minutes." A voice spoke up.

The three jumped to their hooves and turned to the sound in a half second later. Zetra angled himself to where he faced the opposite direction, Jora and Topil taking the individual before them. Though their postures would relax when they saw another cadet, one that was recognized, but not from the original group.

Zetra craned his head back and gave out a sigh. "It's just Gol." He spoke, turning back around and approaching the almost behemoth of a Sangheili. Though in comparison, he was just a head taller, but his broad shoulders and hunched shoulders gave him more of the appearance of a hulking hairless Jiralhanae. "He's one of the other teams." The smaller followed up, moving out of the small formation.

"Gol? What's your number?" Jora followed up.

"Zero-Zero-Three" the dark bluish cadet responded promptly. "Gol is just a nickname."

The others nodded, relaxing their posture only so. Though Jora wondered what they had to worry about. They were all supposed to do the same thing; capture the Zealot. He didn't remember if the Commander had said there would be any reason for cadets to be left behind if someone captured the Zealot without being with the rest of the group, just that there would be promotions for those who succeeded.

 _And those who succeed will be the ones who catch him,_ he thought to himself. _Which means…anyone can be left behind_

Jora immediately glared Gol down. His amber eyes looking over every detail, the way the black suit seemed to cling to the large cadet's skin, how he held himself, and to the energy blade hilt that rested on his right thigh. His demeanor likely became obvious to everyone else as he would soon feel a hand on his shoulder.

"Jora, what's wrong?" Topil asked.

But he would only give a huff and half glance to the larger cadet that had his shoulder. It was a clear and obvious sign of distrust, something that Gol seemed to pick up on rather quickly as he brought a hoof forward and held out his right hand, palm facing out to the nervous Jora.

"It's alright. I don't know where your friends are."

"How do you _know_ my concern is on my friends?" Jora quipped. His tone was short and angry, but he didn't feel that fog creeping in on him. The question seemed to stump Gol as his mandibles opened to reply, but only a stuttering sound came out.

"I didn't say-"

"Say what? You just appear out of the blue, spout out how long it's been to some question you shouldn't have heard?"

"Now wait, I don't know where your friends are, and I don't know what this is all about! "

And Jora had him. A smirk would crawl on his face and he took steps forward. "Why are you lying? We are supposed to be on the same team. We are supposed to work together to get this Zealot." He explained, starting to walk up to Gol. His hands would stay at his side, twitching and nervous. He'd never done anything like this before, but he was so excited that he was able to get the drop on someone's plan. Or at least that's what he hoped was the case.

"We are working together!"

"Who is ' _We_ '?"

"Jora, stop." Zetra interrupted.

"No, he knows how long it's been since we've dozed off, so it must mean he's been watching us, and I want to know _why_." He defended, his eyes glaring to his own teammate. Zetra would open his mandibles to utter a reply, but then silently shut them, seeing a valid point.

"I haven't been spying on you, I thought you meant when the sun went down."

Jora scoffed out and started circling around Gol. "But you heard the question, which makes me wonder how long you had been watching."

"Only a few minutes!"

"One, how do you expect me to believe that when you've already lied to me? Two, if you've only been there a few minutes and you weren't spying on us, then why didn't you make your presence known sooner?"

Again, there was a series of nervous movements, but Gol would stand his ground despite his legs becoming restless and stamping the ground. If anything he was more ready to fight than to run. "So _what_ do you want from me? To tell you where your friends are? To tell you that I was spying on you?"

"Yeah, pretty much" Jora admitted with a small shrug to his shoulders. He started to feel pretty good about this. Though inside he did feel wrong for making the other cadet squirm. They were all supposed to be a team, yet he felt more at odds with the Sangheili before him than anything else.

There was a deep breath from Gol. A physical movement of his entire torso before he slumped back and kept his emerald eyes locked on Jora's own. "I don't know where your friends are, that's a fact. But I was sent to figure out what the light was."

"The fire?" Zetra asked. He had been silent for so long that Jora almost forgot he was there. Regardless his eye contact wouldn't break and he wondered even if he blinked during the time period he kept his hues locked. "And who sent you?"

"Lar…er Two-Zero-Six." Gol said promptly.

"And where is he at?" Jora asked.

"That's the thing. There's some kind of trap that got him. He and I found each other first and he sent me off to actually find Blue and Giz."

"Who's Blue?"

Zetra stepped forward, tapped Jora on the shoulder to get his attention, but even still he wouldn't look away. "Blue is from the group we were assigned. You and Tops got 206 and 045, who I guess is Lar and Giz, and the rest of us got Gol and Blue, or 003 and 139."

Jora's head would spin briefly from the information, but he would push it aside and try to think of something more important to ask. "What's this trap you were talking about?" he finally asked, shaking off his disbelief.

"It was a pit trap." Gol started, but he was interrupted by the sudden _'wait'_ from Topil

" _Pit traps?_ What would make pit traps? Not Sangheili, would they?"

Jora shook his head. "No, and even so, why would a Zealot want to trap us? If anything he would want to make as little about his presence here known."

There was a fall of silence before Jora turned back to Gol, his gaze a bit softer now, but the intensity of his glare didn't leave. "What else was there about his pit trap?"

"Well it was pretty deep, Lar said he felt he twisted his knee in trying to avoid landing on the pikes."

"Pikes?"

"Yeah there were sharpened Brula branches down there and jabbed into the ground. Someone was trying to catch something." Gol explained.

Jora would bring a hand over his head and run it along the developing ridges on either side. He knew Brula trees to be relatively strong, but it was something you just couldn't find easily. They were a deciduous tree anyway, so it being in a jungle made little sense. "Where would someone get Brula branches?" Jora idly asked, more so talking aloud.

"Brula grow on mixed variety planets." Gol suddenly started. "Usually places with temperate, arctic, and tropical climates."

"Not here then?" Topil asked as he glanced around to the hazy jungle they were in.

"No, not here. This planet is jungle, mountains, oceans, and desert, but it's too close a high temperature gas giant to have substantially temperate regions." The large and unfamiliar cadet said.

"And do _you_ think a Zealot would get a hold of these branches?" Jora asked. He received a shake of Gol's head followed with a shrug. It was something that he didn't know, but Topil seemed to have.

"All of the commanding forces on Noble Shadows have been grounded. Unless some random shipment came in with them there?"

"I think we can go past the Zealot would do this." Jora retorted, trying to get away from topic of the Zealot. It was already dismissed that he likely wouldn't have made such a huge impact on the environment and to attempt to kill whatever walked in seemed less likely the idea.

"Then what would?" Zetra asked, showing his nervousness about the situation.

"Jiralhanae?" Topil suggested.

"Maybe." Jora replied, "But why would the Jiralhanae be out here and unknown to the Covenant?"

"Pirates maybe" Topil theorized. "And maybe they didn't come here to kill us specifically. We did see that swamp beast move through last night. Maybe they were trying to catch it for food or fur or something"

Jora nodded, looking to Gol, then Zetra. "And if it's not Jiralhanae?" he asked hesitantly, fearing an answer. But he received a partial shrug from Topil, the other two mimicking the gesture and looking all to one another.

"There's absolutely no telling what it could be then. There are almost an infinite number of things." Topil tried to explain, though it was clear with the expression on his face that he was trying to think of as many things as possible.

"While I don't want to assume," Jora started, looking to Gol apprehensively. "Jiralhanae is the best we have to go with."

The larger Cadet nodded in agreement, though would take a half step back from Jora's questionable gaze. The others would look back and forth between the two before finally moving a little closer to shake this strange staring contest. Jora would break off and return to Topil and Zetra, huddling them up despite the likelihood that he would be easily heard.

"Are we going to help 206?" Zetra asked first. Jora wouldn't answer right off, glance back over his shoulder before returning his glare to the two before him.

"I don't know." He admitted. "It all sounds kind of suspicious."

Topil nodded in agreement, "But even so, should we not see if this isn't?"

Jora turned his head to look to his comrade, waiting for a decent explanation. "Think about it. If we go, and it turns out to be a trap, then great, joke's on us." Topil explained, looking between the dark cadet and Zetra. "If not, then we helped one of our own, yeah? So that would look better on us."

"Tops, this ain't about who _looks_ better or not" Zetra interrupted, seeming almost offended. "It's about helping our fellow comrades!"

"Regardless what we make this about, be it looking better or helping teammates, we have to consider that anything we do to help the 'opposition'," Jora used his two index fingers to make a quotation gesture, "can mean we get stuck here."

"Stuck?" both Zetra and Topil asked simultaneously.

Jora would motion the group a little bit closer together; the tops of their heads almost touching by the time they all leaned forward in a tighter circle. "The Commander said our objective was to capture the Zealot, so-"

"Jora, we know the objective!" Zetra interrupted, but his eyes lowered when he received a glare.

"He said that we can do it as a team, or just try on our own. But here's the thing, he didn't say how many teams and he didn't say what would happen to the ones who aren't there when he's captured."

"So… you think if 206, 003, 045, and 139 all get together somehow, then they will act independently and try to catch the Zealot on their own?" Topil summarized, and his response would have Jora nod. "So what would happen to the rest of us? If that happens."

"Well worst could be we are left here to get back." Jora said as he glanced down to the three sets of hooves. "Or they pick us up and the losers don't get ranks."

The other two considered that for a moment. The best case scenario of losing didn't sound like a huge problem, but simultaneously all three knew that losing meant climbing the ranking officer ladder later would be twice as hard. "So convince them to work with us?" Zetra spoke after a second or two of silence.

"Or capture him first. I'd rather do it all as one big team, but if the other four force our hands, we won't have a choice."

Another moment of silence and Topil would step back. There was but the slightest nods of his head, which Jora would take as an 'I'm in' sort of gesture. Zetra glanced between the two and then made the same gesture. Only then would the apparent 'leader' of this new squad turn to face Gol who had been waiting patiently. "I'll lead you to him." Was all the large cadet said.

"He heard us?" Zetra asked, a touch surprised.

Jora glanced back and chided the light gray cadet. "We are like ten feet from him; of course he can hear us." He huffed, and it was something Jora wanted. Better to let the potential opposition know early what was going to happen. Especially since the new elected leader didn't plan on backing down.

* * *

The following trek didn't last long. Fifteen minutes of walking turned to thirty and the jungle slowed the quad down with precariously placed vines and limbs to random things that nipped at covered hooves. When finally arriving, the air seemed thicker to Jora and with exertion he wheezed a bit more than he would have liked. While he tried to control it, the others noticed and slowed their pace some.

"Just a few more meters" Gol spoke out as he lifted a large leaf for the others to proceed under. He would take the rear for a moment, but at Jora's icy glare, he returned to the front quickly. A few meters went by rather quickly and before long the group had entered a small clearing with a large gaping hole that stretched out over most of it. Gol made his way over first, approaching the ledge cautiously and looking down to his companion. "You alright?" he asked.

"Yeah" came a cough. "Did you find Giz and Blue?" the other called. By which point Jora looked over the ledge. He noticed that Lar had gotten lucky. His child sized body being just small enough to slip through the pikes. His arms were contorted in normal ranges of motion, but his legs were not so lucky, especially his left knee which seemed to be tilted and forced at such an angle it was uncomfortable to look at. Otherwise the dark leather around his lighter gray skin seemed intact.

"We are gonna get you out." Topil spoke, grimacing once he saw how 206 was indeed quite stuck.

"I'd appreciate that." Was Lar's only response. He seemed more tired and fatigued then interested in starting a fight. It made Jora absently question whether he was right to believe there was some sort of foul play. But he decided against such thoughts.

"How stuck are you?" Zetra would ask, walking around a section of the hole and wondering if he could jump in there and push the other cadet out. A hand from Gol indicated that wasn't the case so the smaller Sangheili abandoned the idea.

"Pretty stuck. I tried to work my way out or twist my arm around, but that only pushed me down further and on the ground." 206 explained, looking over to the others just with a small tilt of his head. "I see a tree branch directly above me, it looks sturdy."

Jora tilted his head upward and noted that fact. His eyes traveled around for a moment and then back down to the hole. He couldn't tell roughly how deep it was. His eyes said around 8 feet. Enough to swallow an adult Sangheili, but he would be able to jump out once his hooves touched the ground. If that were the case, but with roughly several dozen of the Brula pikes, the circumstances changed. With the area fully covered, there was no wiggle room or a way to easily just jump down by a ledge and move forward.

"From above, Jora?" Topil asked as he pointed to the tree limb. He figured it was likely the others thought the same thing, just hadn't said anything. "Yeah, find a strong vine." He responded, looking to Gol. "Something strong enough to hold either me or Zetra"

"Me?" the other party responded.

"Yes, you and I are the smallest here. I only weigh 62 kilos, and I think you are a little less. A vine should easily support that weight." Jora explained.

Zetra would look to the pit trap and then look back. "But those spikes are pretty good sized, how are we going to reach 206?"

The 'leader' turned his head back. Eyes working over the puzzle he had, considering the factors and figuring the solution. Or at least the most plausible one. "We cut them." He said after a moment, grabbing hold of the hilt on his left side. "Brula is strong, but against an energy sword, it doesn't stand a chance."

"Get the vine, Gol." Topil ordered, "I'll come help. The three of us will see if we can get something strong enough."

Jora nodded 'I'll climb the tree and get to that limb. When you get back, toss the vine, I'll tie it around my waist, and you can lower me down."

"Let's go!" Gol spoke, and he would move off into the forest with Topil and Zetra following on his heels. Jora returned the hilt to the magnetic strip on his thigh and looked to the large tree before him. "Do you need any water, 206?" he would ask as he moved to the base of the tree.

"Do you have some?" the trapped cadet responded.

"Yeah, we found a stream just before nightfall. The water is boiled clean and all, but I don't have the canteen, Zetra does." Jora said as he found a limb sturdy enough to hold him. He would then jump up, clearing a four foot gap and then clambering a bit higher. He had to take his time though. The heavy air and exertion made his lungs work harder than they needed to.

"When you get me out, can I have some?" 206 asked, surprisingly polite.

"Of course." Jora said in a wheeze, the sound likely more forced than he likely would have wanted it. "May I ask a question?"

"Awkward time, but sure why the hell not." came the distant chuckle. At least Lar had a good personality.

"Did you send Gol to spy on us?" the clambering cadet asked. He was getting higher and quick, but soon it was a matter of worming his way over to the branch. A task made difficult with the thick bromeliads and ivy that clung tightly to the bark and smaller limbs.

"I sent him to find Giz and Blue." 206 admitted. "I had only briefly seen a light before I fell through the branches and landed on this pit trap."

"So you were in the trees?" he asked, carefully sliding over a branch and under some of the ivy that had prickly thorns on the undersides of their leaves.

"Yeah, the area seemed suspicious to me, so I went into the trees to avoid the ground, but I'm a fat ass and fell."

That brought Jora to chuckle a little, cough soon afterward, but he recovered quickly. "When were you dropped?"

"Dunno." Lar admitted. "Pretty late, the sun was setting. Gol said he'd been wandering around most of this afternoon before he found me, and I was hooves on ground for maybe 30 minutes prior to that."

"That would have been past the 24 hour range"

"So?"

"Think on it, if we can't trust the 24 hour range we were supposed to be dropped in, then how are we to trust anything else we were told?" Jora asked as he finally grunted and slid to the tree limb. Now it was just a matter of crawling up and over. That task would have been significantly easier than what he had just done.

"So you think if the Commander didn't uphold one truth, then he didn't uphold others?" Lar asked, now able to make eye contact with Jora. Though eye contact meant a thirty foot height difference but it worked.

"I'd say it's a good possibility. I don't think though the Zealot would attempt to kill us though." The climbing cadet admitted as he got himself to straddle the limb. He would ensure he had a good hold on another outstretching branch, just in case something was to spook him and have him slip off.

"How do you figure?" Lar asked, craning his neck just a little. Jora could tell it was hard for him to speak. Sangheili language compromised largely of body language, now that Lar couldn't move, conveying certain thoughts were made difficult.

"Had he wanted to kill us, he likely would have done so already."

There wasn't a response to that. Jora guessed there might have been had Gol and Topil not called out a familiar 'Oy' when returning. The two and Zetra were easily dragging a thick vine, likely around the same width as any one of their biceps. "Hope we didn't take too long." Zetra called out, letting his section of the vine drop while he moved forward to do a visual check on everyone.

"Perfect timing as usual." Jora admitted. "Now, toss that vine here so we can get to saving our friend."

Zetra and Topil questioned the usage of friend just a bit, not sure if the remark was sinister or genuine. The casual look between the two cadets suggested their confusion, but there wasn't any follow up. Instead Gol and Topil took up the closest point they could along the edge of the hole. Zetra made a loophole at the end to give more weight to that portion of the vine and to give his comrade in the tree more to grab hold.

Gol attempted to make a few tosses, never getting high enough or getting too high. At some point the loop caught on a bit of the ivy, but Jora would refuse to reach for it. On what seemed the tenth attempt, the vine finally got hooked on something that Jora could reach for, the darker colored Sangheili moving scooting forward awkwardly and reaching for it. "Got it!" he called out, soon undoing the knot to loosen and expand the loop. He would create a sort of makeshift harness around his hips and thighs before closing the loop off around his waist.

It was at the point he looked over the edge and kicked one leg over was he aware of how much trust he would needing in the three back on land. Gol alone looked like he could hold the vine with ease, but he was unsure if Topil could and he knew Zetra couldn't either. All he hoped for was the combined strength of his two comrades in case there was some betrayal. "Ok, I'm going to lower myself off the branch and hang on to a limb just in case." Jora warned. His left hand came to the sturdy side limb he had been holding onto prior. Slowly he slipped his weight down and felt the vine creak with his weight. But it held for now. "Do you have me?"

"We got you!" Topil called back. Jora looked over his shoulder and saw that the three indeed had the vine, Zetra up front, Topil in the middle, and Gol in the back with the end of the remaining slack tied around his weight. He felt his trust in the cadet grow a little stronger and thus he allowed the vine to fully take his weight. Though he kept his hand on the support limb just in case, but nothing happened.

"Slowly lower me." He spoke, soon feeling his weight shift and his body slowly approaching the pit trap below. Jora allowed his body to go with gravity, the vine holding him just at a good balance point where his belly was almost parallel to the ground. Though not something he had ever tried his arms and legs instinctively spread to keep his body in a 'lying down' sort of position. When he was lowered more, he reached for the hilt of his sword, slowly as not to disrupt his balance. A little closer to the pikes below and he activated the blade, hearing it whoosh and hum to life while the rush of power came over him.

"Just be careful with that thing!" Lar remarked, his eyes focused on the white prongs of the crackling energy.

"Don't worry. I'm no blade master, but I have a steady hand." Jora explained. Despite all desire to just slash at the closest pike, he refrained. Instead his motion was slow and deliberate. The energy weapon didn't need the force to cut through Brula wood, the heat alone made it comparable to cutting bread.

One slightly diagonal slice and about six inches of the first pike fell off, tumbling down and missing Lar by a few feet. "Careful!" he would hear, likely from Lar. Jora changed tactics, his free right hand would come to a section of wood he knew would fall away while his left slowly cut through another good sized chunk. Another diagonal cut, but the pike that the cadet palmed would be tossed to a side of the pit that was unoccupied. "Better?"

"Very much so."

The methodical cutting would proceed on. Things got a little tricky when Jora needed to swing around, ensuring that opening he was slowly creating was big enough for him to move through without getting stuck. Though from where he was, that was the only danger. Falling would bruise him, but not kill him. Fortunately, the pikes only standing around two meters, he didn't have to cut forever.

Finally after what seemed a painstaking hour, Jora could deactivate the blade. He checked the power supply, dismayed to see it had over half of its battery life used up. A mental note to be sparing with if from here and he would then place the hilt back over the magnetic strip.

"Here, take my hand" he spoke, now but a few inches from Lar. The other cadet could move now, but he had to get his sore limbs to do what he wanted first. He groaned out as response, but did eventually sit up and then reach out to take Jora's left hand, then his right. "I got you"

"Ok, pull us up please!"

The other three, who had been working so hard to keep their composure in the hot jungle night moved. Prior to they would just allow the vine to move in their hands, but now they simply walked backward in unison. Slowly Jora rose, bringing 206 with him and standing him up. "Hang on" Jora said and he saw Lar's hand move to grab hold of the vine while the other around his back in a partial hug almost. The darker cadet moved his hands to hold left bicep and around under right arm. Up and up they would go from there, getting to a good height and just over the edge of the pit.

"Thanks for helping me." Lar said suddenly, but there was sincerity in his tone. "I know it kinda looks suspicious, but I was going to come and find you and the others after we found Blue and Giz."

"The whole act as a team thing?" Jora asked cautiously.

"Yeah, I thought about just gathering my guys and going for the Zealot, but after being stuck in there that long, I kinda realized that a Zealot can take out a whole squad of humans easily. Outrunning a bunch of kids would be easier than…."

"Than what?"

"Did you hear something?"

Jora looked around. His natural night vision couldn't truly pick up a lot of motion in the dim moonlight. Though he couldn't see beyond the tree line either. As for hearing something, all he did hear was the shuffling from his team and the pants all around. "What did you hear?"

"It sounded like armor moving."

"The Zealot?" Jora asked, but he saw Lar shake his head out of the corner of his vision.

"No, there was more than one."

 _ **BANG**_

One second they were rising, the next, Lar and Jora were going the opposite direction. Gravity pulled both back into the pit, tumbling over the thankfully flattened and reduced pikes they had come from. Jora heard some shuffling of many feet. A familiar but odd language called out as something clustered around the hole.

But his world grew dark and his mind slipped away to other things.

* * *

"Commander, a report." One of Grelar's troops spoke, his voice hastier than it should have been. The white armored Zealot turned his head slightly to the left, an indication he was listening. His body remained turned to a large bay window, hands cupped behind his back and just between the segments of his dorsal armor. He had been lost in thought prior to that moment. Concerned while he looked over the dark jungle from an observation deck; his home away from home.

The room was set up for scientists, which his fleet didn't have. Computers and monitors had been pushed all to the interior walls while what remained was a semicircular room with expansive viewing ports. It rested on top of the ship near its aft and remained covered with retractable plating while combat. As it was now, it didn't matter of the weak point remained open.

"Go ahead, Major" he addressed the red armor clad Sangheili warrior.

"Sir, we have reports of low flying ships near the box canyon." The major spoke as he tapped at the data pad he held in his off hand. "They were reported a few days ago, but only until you deployed Zealot Trem did we learn their origins. Sir," there was a pause as the major looked up to make solid eye contact with the Commander.

That brought concern to the white armored Sangheili. His body turned now a little to the left, giving the major more of a profile and clear view of his forest green eye. "What is it? Pirates?" he asked, knowing he shouldn't interrupt, but the silence had brought him concern.

"The ships read UNSC on their wings and flanks. Six Pelicans so far spotted."

The commander felt his hearts stop dead for a second. The pang in his chest and the sinking sensation of his gut almost made him panic, but his exterior kept the calm aura outside his eyes growing wide and posture straightening slightly. Years of military training to show those of inferior command that panic would resolve nothing. "Six?" he asked, his tone alarmed, but not rose above a normal speaking voice.

The major nodded in confirmation and the Commander let out a concerned chuff. "Tell Zealot Trem to locate the cadets in the box canyon and have them secured somewhere safe. He is to defend them with his life until we can lower the shield and eradicate the infidels."

"Sir! It will be done!" the major spoke, bowing his head slightly and saluting, right fist over left side of his chest. The red armored Sangheili wasted little time from there, moving off to the lower parts of the ship to spread the order.

The commander turned from his spot, returning to have his gaze fall on the jungle again. It had been possible the UNSC came here on accident. The planet only on the edges on Covenant territory and having been sight for multiple passersby before. Typically pirates smuggling valuable resources and animals, this was different.

He decided then to move, his pace quickening as to travel to the bridge. It would be a long walk from where he was. Parts of the ship that made getting to the gravity lift to the bridge had been shut off, so alternate methods were needed. Though the Commander would indeed get there and bow his head in respect to the Ship Master who had been there long before and resting peacefully on the command chair.

"You know of the humans then" the golden armored Sangheili replied to the partial salute.

"Yes Ship Master, though the walk was what delayed me."

"I had guessed as much."

"Will you be sending out troops to ensure the town below isn't in danger?" The commander asked, stepping just off to the left of the hovering chair the leading Sangheili resided on. His answer was a click from mandibles, a silent way of saying 'no'.

"We would not want to alarm your Reapers."

"My Reapers are in danger out there." The commander explained, talking a half step forward. He received a sideways glare and his hoof would move back to its original position. "They aren't Reapers yet, and that project is classified."

"To those who do not hail under your command and to those who do not need to know." The Shipmaster added, his orange eyes now fully on the white armor. Grelar felt he should be fortunate that his armor hid his eyes in lowlight situations. With the eye sockets of the helmet though, the Shipmaster was still able to know where to glare.

"Regardless the subject, they are not Reapers. They have not real ranks yet nor are even part of the Covenant Army." The commander retorted with a small amount of back talk. "They are cadets until the Minister deems them ready."

"And while the Minister may not regard them as soldiers, do not think me a fool. I have seen their training." The Shipmaster quipped, his golden armored frame standing suddenly. The chair lowered and he would step down from his raised position. He was an imposing figure, from the sheen of his half helmet to the strength of his hooves. "They may be just Children, but those who have passed their first test and those who have yet to take it are as capable as any Sangheili on this ship."

Grelar inwardly felt a sense of pride over come him, but he wouldn't let it last. In a situation like this, he needed to be a little humble, especially in front of his current commanding officer. "They are still but children and have never encountered humans before."

"You lack faith in them?"

"Absolutely not!" the commander defended, stamping his left hoof. An outburst, but a necessary one. "The teams I currently have out there are the strongest from their group. They were selected to lead all of the other Cadets, but I had to give them some sort of test in order for the Covenant to grant them ranks officially."

"Says the Minister, not I." The Shipmaster spoke in his deep growl. He took a few paces closer, now standing a few inches from the commander. The two were the same height, but to show his respects, Grelar kept his head slightly bowed and eyes casted down. "Those children out there will handle themselves. You will let them do so."

"Sir, I-"

"Consider dealing with the UNSC their test for rank. Rather than catching an old perverted Zealot."

The white clad Zealot kept his mandibles shut. He wished to defend Trem, but lacked the ability to do. For now he let the words sink in before giving a half nod and moving over to a communications relay. "Zealot Trem." He spoke over an encrypted channel, likely one that the UNSC could pick up. "Observe only. Let the Cadets handle the humans."

"Sir?" he heard back over the COMS channel before him.

"Your orders are clear, Zealot."

"Sir, I understand, but all of the cadets have been captured."

Grelar paused and lowered his head in dismay. He wanted to tell Trem to jump in and get the children back safely. He wanted to go out there himself and cut the humans in half. But it was the glare from the Shipmaster that kept him from making that call. The decision he uttered after was hard to make, and it showed in the way he uttered it through almost gritted teeth.

"Let the cadets escape their captors."


	7. Chapter 6

_**AN: I apologize for the delay, I lost my muse to write for a while. I think I have a grip on it now, but I will still be taking my time on these**_

 _ **Thank you for understanding**_

 _ **Chapter 6**_

"Wake up, little one!" a sweet lilting voice called out. "It's time to get out of bed and greet the new day!"

Jora stirred, he didn't remember falling asleep when put down for the evening, not that he cared. He looked down to his little hooves, looked around the small room he shared with his mother. The female already hustling around the neatly decorated apartment and bustling to get the day started. "Mama?" the young Sangheili asked as he sat up on the mat and pushed aside the soft fluffy blanket he was previously cocooned in.

"Yes, dear?" the woman responded, giving a half glance as she brought a cast iron pot to the hearth. She let the pot hang on a bar just a foot or so from the flames, then move off to the kitchen counter and start preparing breakfast. She moved quickly, her hands skilled in stripping the small alien bird of its bones. Jora knew it wasn't hunted but he also knew that it had to have come from somewhere other than 'the market'

"Mama, I had a dream again." Jora finally spoke as he stood up and made a small effort to tidy up his bed. Though at best he just made sure the blanket he slept with was more or less spread out, but not evenly.

"Well you always have dreams, dear." Was the response he received. "It wasn't about the armored monster again was it?"

Jora nodded his head and yawned, little mandibles flaring out as he stretched and moved over to the hearth to watch the flames lick the bottom of the dark colored pot. "Yeah, but this time I was the armored monster."

"You were?" his mother asked, looking up this time from her actions and watching the dark colored child. "What did you do?"

"There were these…creatures. They looked weird." He responded. Jora could see them in the licks of flame; their strange eyes staring dead ahead while their strangely armored bodies were piled in an awkward way. He remembered one staring right at him and with a second of lingering on its face, a shiver ran down his spine.

"What did they look like?"

"They were very pale. Not like any of the races I've seen in the markets." He explained, struggling over the description. His hand would come and idly pick at the loose collection of scales around his neck while he tried to remember.

"Can you draw them?" his mother asked again, this time her voice closer. Jora turned, saw a knee parallel to his eye level. Instantly he glanced up and saw the familiar face he had long since imprinted on. The gleam in her golden eyes, the scaly complexion of her sandy skin, and the jagged teeth hidden behind closed hinged jaws. He would nod his head and look around for the data pad he usually played with and used to study. It rested on a small wooden table with one leg tapped back together. It was meant for him, the top standing at around his chest, but he knew his mother to use it too and sit at it while eating meals.

"I can try." The child said, moving over to where the object was. His little hands would awkwardly fumble with the rectangular object, claws tapping at the hologram for a moment before he huffed in frustration and remembered to use the pads of his fingers. With the 'screen' now responding, he pulled up the program needed for drawing. The display turned white and a little cursor was displayed. Jora would start to drag his finger tip across the screen. There was no clear pattern to it, but with a little bit of time, the black markings were scribbled into a disfigured face. "It's not good, not close, but here"

By that time his mother had moved over, sat next to where he stood. She sat on her left hip while her hand propped the rest of her body up. The golden eyes would scan over the image for a second, furrowing while she attempted to decipher the drawing. "You said they were pale?" she asked, though not looking away from the drawing. Jora nodded in response.

His mother would shift. She would rest more on her backside while her legs criss-crossed to take a 'meditation' pose. The other hand would idly fiddle with the turquoise gown that covered most of her slender body while she got comfortable. Her finger came to the pad, whisking over the 'screen' with grace and speed. In a matter of moments she had refined the sketch. The original scribbles remained, but had been drawn over. Jora fluttered his mandibles a little, but wasn't terribly off put that his mother corrected his work.

"How about this?" she asked, showing the new drawing. Now seeing it more clearly, Jora's eyes instantly went wide and he reached out to take his mother's arm. "Yes, that's the creature!" he commented, pointing to the screen and fidgeting in place.

"These are called humans, my dear." She explained, her brow furrowed in concern still. "They are the creatures your father has gone off to fight."

"Ho….ho…hoomahns?" Jora tried to repeat, the words so foreign on his mandibles.

"Hue- mahns" his mother pronounced.

Jora fluttered his mandibles in frustration. He said it again, but still his mother repeated him. "That's what I said! Hoomahns!" he replied in a disgruntled tone. The word was so weird, like the creatures themselves. It wasn't anything like their language. There was no throaty sound to it, now deep chested reverberation. The word was all in the movements of his mandibles, subtle movements of the hinged jaws to create the word. Jora didn't like it.

"Jora." His mother spoke, catching his attention. "Wake up."

"I am awake." He responded.

"Jora!" her voice called again. Though she was right there, her voice sounded distant. So did everything else. It all seemed to be fading.

"Mama?" he called out, reaching out for her.

"Jora, wake up!"

The image faded and the child's eyes opened. There was darkness for a moment, but his eyes adjusted. First he saw his dark body, covered in a black leathery suit that didn't fit. There was the ground around him and as he lazily brought his head up, things becoming fuzzy for a moment before clearing.

"Jora! Are you awake?" the voice repeated, this time being clearer and not near as feminine. It sounded more like a child's voice, light and almost airy. His eyes would settle on the individual calling out to him, an almost white colored Sangheili child. Blue eyes would meet his and Jora instantly remembered what was going on, the dream of his mother forgotten.

"What? What? Where are we?" he asked, wanting to get up. Something stopped him. His eyes glanced down; saw a sort of rope looped around his chest. The bright color dotted with darker colors here and there while the threads appeared shiny in the dim lighting. He jerked again against them, feeling the almost cutting pressure against his chest and as well around his arms. "Are we _tied_ up!?" Jora asked as he became aware that his arms were oriented behind him and wrists crossed and bound. His back rested against a steel pole and his shoulders were touching something either side.

"Not so loud!" Zetra warned his voice barely above a whisper.

"Jora shut it, the humans got us." Topil explained. The voice came from behind him. Instinctively he craned his neck, but saw that the individual next to him was blocking his path. Wuiled glanced over and shoulder checked the smaller Sangheili.

"We were wondering when you'd wake up." He spoke, turning his head back to where he faced. His expression as placid as ever.

"After you and 206 fell, the humans rounded us up." Topil explained the voice again only coming in as a whisper. "They brought us to their camp, tied us up. As it turns out they already captured everyone else."

Jora looked around again. This time he saw the dull colored green canvas walls surrounding them. The other pole stuck roughly equal distance and likely being a support for whatever they were in. On the other pole he saw Zetra first, to his left 206 who was hunched over and silent, then another cadet to his right that he didn't recognize. There was another behind him, but the cadet was so small, he could barely see the crest of his neck until he looked back.

"Is everyone here?" he asked, looking over now to his left and seeing Damerit almost glaring him down.

"Yeah, Tops is next to me." Damerit said as he gestured with his head to his left. "And there's another Cadet I don't know fully."

"Gol" the voice said. Jora knew who it was, but there was a little bit of banter in between Damerit and Topil. A little bit of a debriefing it seemed.

"So you must be Blue and Giz." Jora asked as he looked over to the one he didn't recognize. The one behind Zetra shifted a little, craned his neck to look over as best he could. "I'm Giz." the one said.

"So you're Blue."

Jora received only a partial nod, the mossy brown head accenting brilliant blue eyes. The other wouldn't glance over after that, only keep to himself and stare ahead as if in a trance.

"Excuse him, he doesn't talk much." Zetra spoke as he gestured to Blue. "Damn good in a fist fight, but not much of a conversationalist."

"Just cuz you guys don't know how to talk to him." Giz piped up, turning his head the other way, likely to look to his companion. "But that's alright, he's easy to read."

"Well now that we all have introductions settled." Damerit interrupted, likely having finished his 'debrief' with Topil. "Jora, what are we going to do?"

A good question. Unfortunately Jora didn't have much of an answer right away. Though the others were falling silent, he still heard a fair amount of muffled chattering. Nothing that he had ever heard before. "I take it we are in a human camp?"

"Yes" Wuiled replied.

"How many humans?" he asked, noting for the first time in a long time how unnatural the word sounded when he said it.

"None of us got a clear count. We think somewhere around 9." Giz responded. "But we got here before you, so maybe more showed up"

Jora nodded again, not that the far cadet could have seen it. Again his eyes flickered around the tent. He noticed over past Wuiled there was a flap partially opened. A gentle flickering glow shone through, putting light on the far wall and just barely over Lar's out stretched hoof. Every now and again the glow blackened with an undeterminable shape, but then came right back to its gentle hue.

"Camp layout?" he finally asked, having no clue as to their orientation.

"Rectangle layout." Blue responded calmly. "We are against the cliff wall, the jungle out on all other sides."

That told Jora very little, but he wasn't about to question the validity of someone who barely spoke. "The wall is where?" he asked, soon receiving a head gesture to the far end of the containment.

Jora stared at it for a while, again couldn't question the validity of the gesture. Instead he just did his best to formulate a plan. The obvious problem was just getting free of their bindings. He lingered on the thought for a moment before he felt something brush against one of his knuckles. "What was that?"

"Sorry." Topil said suddenly. "My fingers are cramping."

"Can you reach any of the ropes around someone's wrists?" Jora asked, an idea practically smacking.

"Let's see." Jora could feel the fingers again brushing around his knuckles. It felt a little weird but eventually Topil struggled a little more against his bindings, groaning out lightly as he did. "I feel something. Is that your suit?"

"No." Jora replied. "What does it feel like?"

"Weird. Kind of stringy?"

" _Cut_ it." Jora commanded his voice more stern than he had ever managed before.

"Aye" was the response, and Topil went to work. The rest of the group was hushed in a silence, all silently wondering if their claws were strong enough to do the job. Jora could feel the vibrations of something, occasionally felt a finger, or knuckle brush against him. "This is starting to hurt my chest."

"Keep going. If you can get me free, then I can free everyone else." Jora explained his voice less commanding than before. Before long he heard a faint creak and then felt a pop. His bindings were looser, but still he was unable to get free. "Keep going"

"Jora, the voices are getting louder. And the glow went dark." Wuiled suddenly spoke. Jora turned his head to the light, saw the glow was gone and indeed could hear voices getting louder. He'd never seen a human before. A real one anyway. He knew only that they looked bizarre with pale faces and weird features like protruding nasal cavities and weird flaps of skin and cartilage on either side of their head. Then there was some sort of weird collection of fur. Females tended to have longer fur that they styled or hid in their helmets while males sometimes had fur on their face. But not all of them.

"Topil, sit straight." He muttered, watching the shadows get closer and soon shapes were visible through the canvas material. Topil did as told, getting back down and taking a breather while he attempted to act calm. Naturally Wuiled and Jora straightened out a little to try and keep him hidden while he calmed himself. No sooner after did the two figures enter through the flap. They pushed it aside and stepped through, one after the other.

"Look at these ugly mooks." One of them said in an accent so thick, Jora almost couldn't understand him. "Eggheads _think_ they're Elites?"

"They _don't_ know, that's why we ain't killed them yet."

Jora tilted his head. He was taught proper forms of English, not what they were speaking. Still he figured a lot of it was insults.

"This one hasn't woken up yet?" the armored man asked as he walked over to Lar. He did some sort of awkward hunch. The knees of his legs bent and so did the joints of his hips. It was a crouch, but with the human's knee pads, chest armor, and helmet along with uniform pants and a side arm, the motion looked strange.

"No." the other spoke, stepping forward and giving Lar's right hoof a kick. Jora's temper flared at the motion. He wanted to get up and do something, but a gentle tug at his restraints reminded him. He took a moment to glance at who he could see. Even with the thick suits on he could tell muscles were tense and ready for a fight. "I ain't to sure he'll get around. Might have to drop him off as a casualty."

"Eggheads will want to do an autopsy on one of them anyway."

"Yeah, the rest of these bastards…hang on." The one still standing commented. His dark eyes had peered around the rest of the tent. His skin wasn't as pale as the other and his jaw was more rounded. "These tykes can understand us." He said.

The other one jerked his helmeted head up, looking around while he stood and staying next to his companion. "Either that or they are all watching us."

"No, look at this one." A gloved hand was gestured to Jora. "This one's about ready to come unglued."

"Wasn't that the one the scouts found in the pit?" the paler one asked, gesturing a hand back over to Lar. "With that one?"

"It don't matter." The larger said as he moved over and did the same crouching motion. The man was now in his face. The odd helmet covered the weird flaps of skin and the rest of his cranium. He had yellow tinted glasses covering his eyes, but that didn't stop Jora from seeing dark colored irises glaring him down. "Go on. Something on your mind?" he asked, his strange mouth moving and shaping the words out much like a San 'Shayuum's lips did.

" _Do not…dare...touch him_." Jora responded, actually speaking their language being more of a challenge than just learning it. Of course his accent was thick, the other cadets could tell, yet it was the humans who remained more stunned.

"It can _speak!?_ " the one standing aside asked.

"And it can understand us." The one before Jora clarified, though the shock would soon fade from his features. The widened eyes and slightly flared nostrils returning to a 'normal' state. " _Where_ did you all come from?"

Jora wouldn't answer.

"Are there _more_ of you?"

Jora still would only glare. The man before him sighed out in agitation. Then without warning haul back his right hand and bring a fist to the cadet's chest. Jora felt the impact pin him against the steel bar, his breath caught in his throat and a sickening crack reverberating from his chest. As if he couldn't breath before, now he was gasping, trying to get something in his lungs so he could function.

"Well now it really ain't gonna talk, Jeff." The other spoke as he shifted over to his companion. A hand was place over his shoulder, but the man before Jora wouldn't yield his position.

"It will talk. If not, we can take one of its friends." The man called 'Jeff' said as his odd face quirked in a smile. Jora coughed after a moment and straightened his back up despite how it hurt. The sharp throb of a steel bar being shoved against his spine was still keeping him from drawing deep breaths, but the crack concerned him more.

Jeff had now stood up, that smirk still on his face. He brought his oddly shape foot to Lar's hoof and gave it another kick, this time harder. The others reacted yet again, now struggling against their bonds. Jora didn't know if they reacted the same to him, but outside of initial curiosity, the thought was tossed aside.

"Jeff, we should probably stop. We don't know if they are Elites or some terrifying midget nightmare."

"Doesn't matter Ray" the taller said as he this time would bring his odd foot down and stomp on the dislocated knee. Not surprisingly, Lar woke immediately, crying out in pain and arching his back. His other hoof would strike the offender, knocking the human off balance, but not stumbling to the ground. "Little _maggot!"_ Jeff spat as he drew his firearm.

" _Knock_ it off, man!"

"Didn't you see that? Little bastard kicked me!"

"Because you fucking kicked him and stomped on his leg! I'm surprised that other one didn't kick you!"

Jeff didn't say anything. Jora easily saw his face was bright red now. Surely not a good sign for Lar or for anyone else. Of course the human would glare back to his target. Jora could see the injured cadet wasn't with it, but that didn't seem to stop the human from attacking. Another kick to that injured leg, and 206 brought his mandibles in tightly. His eyes clenched shut and there was a groan.

The rest of the cadets were now fighting their restraints, ready for a fight or ready to do something. Jora started to muster some of his strength, jiggle his hands to see how the loose the bonds had been when Topil cut at them. Never had he felt so helpless before.

"Seriously, stop!" the other man had come to his companion to try and get him off whatever craze it was he got into. But the other pushed him off and shook his head.

" _Ray_ , go back to your post. " was the command, but the other didn't seem eager to listen.

"Listen, if there's anything I've ever learned with smaller creatures, is you don't mess with them as a group. These nylon tie downs aren't meant to hold back pissed off Elites. Hell sometimes they can barely keep cargo together on a drop!"

"If you're worried, then _get out_ of here." Jeff responded as he gave one more stomp to that knee. This time Jora's knee jerk reaction to tug at his bonds kicked in. He felt them snap, his wrists loosened, but he kept his movements subtle and slow. He would rather not have one of those guns turned on him.

Lar didn't want any more of the stomping. Once again he kicked, hitting that boot yet again and knocking the human off balance. This time Jeff found himself unable to recover. With a grunt he tumbled down and rolled onto his side with feet kicking in the air for a moment. His comrade came over to help him, or to calm him. The words from there were frantic, both Ray pleading his comrade to calm down and a lot of cusses Jora didn't recognize. He could also here Lar pleading.

" _Stop kicking me_!" he cried out, his voice barely able to choke out a sound. The words were in human, so of course the sounds were strained and thick with an accent.

"What did you say!?" Jeff asked as he rolled up from the ground.

" _Stop! It hurts! My chest is on fire too!"_ Lar responded. Jora was frozen in his spot, his hands were about ready to come up around the bindings of his chest, pull them off or untie them if need be. But he found himself unable to move. 206 as asking for mercy from humans. Like a small child would if someone was picking on him. It never occurred to Jora that they were just that.

"Well that's what _happens_ when you fall into one of our pits!" Jeff retorted, soon appearing surprised that he was talking to an elite. "And this is what you get when you kick me!" Jeff kicked Lar this time. He hauled back his right leg and used all of his body weight this time. The injured cadet yelped with the attack, but Jeff didn't seem he was done. He kicked again, higher this time. That odd shaped foot colliding with 206's head. The force jerked Lar to one side, his body leaning that way as best it could for a while before another impact of a kick brought the cadet to double over. This time he would cough up a string of blue.

The other Cadets were at their wits end. If the bonds could have broken, they would have by now. Damerit was attempting to wiggle out, the friction tearing holes in his suit. Wuiled was simply pulling in attempt to break them or the pole that kept him in place. Blue and Zetra were doing about the same, but Zetra offering a mantra of comforting, trying to tell Lar to hang in there. As for Topil, Gol, and Giz, he didn't know. Surely they were ready to fight as well if only they could get free.

Jora at this point had enough. Hearing the tortured cries of Lar was too much. Even if Jora saw it as weakness, he couldn't leave a comrade to be punished for defending himself.

The bonds around his chest were easy to pull off. A quick couple passes with his claws and the ropes came undone. Jora didn't have time to notice if the others saw him get free. All he knew was he had to stop Jeff.

He was shaky on his hooves when he stood, the pang in his back and chest kept him hunched a little. But once Jora locked his eyes on the human, he didn't know about anything else. It was then he realized he stood a head shorter than Ray. He was so used to being around 2 meter tall adult Sangheili; he didn't even think he was close to the same height as a human.

One hoof forward, then a springing step, followed by another. Jora had cleared the 5 foot gap and tackled Jeff to the ground with ease. He didn't know where Ray was; probably ready to join in the fight. What mattered was the human he was now wrestling with. Jeff was heavier, but Jora clearly stronger as he pinned the man to the ground and hauled back a couple times to punch the parts of his face and neck that were visible.

Something grabbed his neck and pulled him back. Training kicked in and his hands instinctively went to the forearm around his throat. He felt something jab into his back. Likely a punch or a kick to get him to bend forward. It worked and Jora was taken off his hooves, choking on the arm around his neck for a brief moment before he mule kicked the attacker. He heard a pained groan instantly and the arm around his neck released him.

Jora turned quickly, planted his one right hoof on the process and brought his left around to strike, but he hit nothing but air. Now knowing where his target was, doubled over and holding his abdomen, Jora used his momentum to stand normally for but a millisecond while he again mule kicked his attacker, this time straight in the head and with enough force to knock Ray's helmet clean off with broken chinstraps flapping in the breeze.

Ray himself would fall in a heap to the floor. Silent and still. Jora didn't care if he killed the man; his focus now was back to Jeff. The man had since staggered to his feet, wiping at his mouth and nose which left a smear of red across his cheek. There was a momentary standoff while Jeff collected himself enough to stand properly. In that time he heard his cadets cheering Jora on.

"Kill him!" Damerit called out.

Topil finished with "Snap his neck!"

Giz was rattling off all sorts of suggestions. Bite him, kick him, break his limbs, and everything in between. Even the more placid members of the group, Gol, Blue, and Wuiled; were all spouting out violent means of harming Jeff.

But all the noise came to an abrupt halt when Jeff drew an energy sword hilt. Jora's eyes grew wide. His left hand instinctively came to his left thigh to grab a hilt. Nothing was there. _"At least humans smart enough to remove weapon."_ He remarked in English. His accent so thick it almost hid his amusement.

"You Elites pride yourselves in your swordsmanship so much, I almost feel bad using this against you."

" _Over what?"_ Jora cocked his head to one side, the smirk likely invisible to the soldier before him.

"This." Jeff spoke, patting his firearm. "Figure though it ain't a fair fight, plus if I shoot you, everyone else will just come in here and pump the bunch of you with lead."

" _Admirable."_ Jora remarked, showing a little bit of respect for the human. But Jora was confident he could disarm the human. He couldn't count the number of sword fights he had gotten into where a fake weapon had to be disarmed from the assailant. Though to any other Sangheili, losing your sword was the ultimate dishonor. At this point, being capture by humans, Jora figured the least of his troubles was losing his weapon.

Jeff hadn't activated the sword yet. The Sangheili had no qualms in giving a bluff charge, a sudden movement to see what the human would do. He flinched and that's what Jora wanted. He did it again, saw the flinch and instantly pounced. His left hand shot out, grabbed hold of Jeff's arm by the wrist, and wrenched it. The human screamed, but didn't let go. Worse was, the sound of a human in pain was finally loud enough to carry outside of the tent. Not a time to fool around.

Again he wrenched that wrist and twisted Jeff's arm, feeling it give and dislocate from the socket. Now Jeff screamed in pain, but he fought back. He moved to grab Jora's shoulder and pull him down to a ground fight, the pull not enough but the swipe at his hoof following sent him tumbling, with the human soldier gaining the high ground. His right arm rendered useless, Jeff reached to grab the hilt from his still captured hand; the cadet refused and wrenched it from his new grasp.

Jora's fingers couldn't hold on to the weapon for long. The soldier grabbed hold of his arm and jerked, rolling to one side and bringing Jora with him. Jeff was now on his side, pinning cadet's arm above his head and moving to pin it. The cadet roared out in pain, twisting himself onto his belly and use claws to tear at the arm. He was free, but without a sword. He pounced again, this time Jeff had hold of the hilt with his left hand and activated the ghostly white blade.

He had just managed to land and grab hold of Jeff's arm before a clean swipe, the heat of the blade making his skin prickle. While Jora had a hold of the soldier's arm, the rest of him straddled the man's waist, his left knee pinning that useless arm to ensure it couldn't grab that firearm. Now he just had to worry about that blade that crackled near his head. Jora pushed, his strength barely enough to budge Jeff's own. Jora roared out, called some sort of strength he couldn't believe he had, started pushing the arm away from his head. His strength waned; the Soldier pushed the blade in whatever direction he could.

Then it was searing pain as the energy's edge burned slowly through Jora's suit and then his right outer thigh. He cried out in anguish as the sword went deeper and deeper. Had it not been for Jeff suddenly going limp the sword would have cut him clean through. Instantly Jora pushed the sword away from his leg and grabbed it. He didn't care what had happened to the man, he wanted revenge.

The twin forked blade was oriented to where it could and did impale Jeff. The motion was clean and the scent of burning skin soon filled Jora's nostrils. Yet as he sat there over his first kill, he felt nothing outside a little bit of delight for getting the better of his foe.

"Jora!" he heard, the voice coming from Wuiled who appeared to have broken his restraints enough to land a kick on Jeff. Or that's what was assumed.

"Here." The now exhausted cadet spoke. Jora felt he was barely able to crawl off the human he killed. The blade sizzled its way out of the corpse and was deactivated for the time. No reason to use it on the bindings.

Slowly, Jora moved to his nearest comrade, started tugging at the strings and clawing at them to free Wuiled. His motions were shaky and weak and for a moment he wondered why it was his body just wouldn't cooperate with what he wanted done. Fortunately, once the large Sangheili was freed, he had the strength to go over to everyone else and untie them. All while Jora just stayed on his hands and knees, panting heavily while he was reminded of the pain prior to his fight.

"You going to be ok?" Topil asked, now free and moving to check on Jora.

"Yeah…just…need to catch my breath." Was Jora's response.

He heard something a few seconds later. Desperate cries for someone to wake up. Jora wasn't entirely aware of what was going on. At some point he felt his muscles go weak and within a moment he was flat on his back. He heard some other cries. Ones that weren't from his guys. That was the last thing Jora could recall before he felt grass beneath his body.

Jora jolted up, felt a few hands push him back down.

"Easy." Came Gol's voice.

"Would someone like to fill me in?" Jora asked, granted it was quietly and while he was looking around to do a count. He saw his team and the members of the other team, though Lar was laying on his back.

"Sure." Zetra piped up, Jora looked close and he had one of the side arms from the two humans in his hand and aimed in a different direction. "We cut a hole in the tent, escaped out into the jungle, but we didn't get very far because you are heavy and so is Lar."

"Shut it." Another voice spoke, it sounded like Giz.

"Anyway, the humans are onto us, but they don't know where we went yet." Zetra added at his own risk.

Jora sighed out and tried to turn over, but again came a hand to his chest to indicate for him to be still. He wouldn't listen. Shove the hand aside and move to roll to his belly, and then shift slowly to his hands and knees.

He would glance around at this point. The entire group had collected themselves in the thick undergrowth. Zetra and Giz were at point with two human pistols awkwardly held in their hands. Topil and Damerit were posted on the flank with the long rifles the two humans had on their back. Wuiled and Blue were in the rear, both with energy swords in their hands and ready to activate. Gol kept a nurse position, monitoring the once fallen Jora and the still lifeless Lar simultaneously in the middle of the group. It was a tight set up, but with trees over head, it was a large oversight to not have someone looking above.

Jora decided to give them some slack. He likely wouldn't have thought of it either in the heat of the moment. "So we pilfered the human's guns and we are held up here _why_?" he asked, knowing it was likely a dumb question.

"Because you and Lar are heavy." Was the response Zetra gave a second time. "That and you've only been out for 5 minutes. We just set up point to breath about a half second before you woke up."

"So we can move again?"

Zetra shrugged. He would never look back to Jora; just keep his sights focused on the top end of the pistol's muzzle. "What do you want us to do?" was the eventual response.

Jora paused. Momentarily perplexed wasn't a good look for him, so he looked around a bit more. Tried to figure out what they could do. Flee back in the jungle was an option, but he wasn't certain if the noise would be enough to attract the human's attention or not. He was certain they would start sweeping the area soon if nothing came up.

"We need a distraction." Jora spoke suddenly, looking around small area they had occupied underneath the fern's fronds. "One of us needs to go to the other side of the camp and run the other direction as fast as possible."

Things had been quiet before, but oddly enough it seemed as if the followed silence was worse. Jora looked around to his teammates and sighed. "Come on. What's going to happen if the Humans start sweeping?" he asked, knowing that they will do exactly that if they weren't careful.

"They shouldn't be here anyway!" Damerit seethed in a hushed whisper. "We should kill them all!"

"And then what happens?" Topil agreed. "We kill this group and then they send more humans? Does this planet need that? Does it _need_ the war brought to it when we are in the far reaches of Covenant controlled space?"

"Then we just fight them off again" Giz spoke, lowering his weapon a hair so he could look back to the rest of the group. "This is about now, not later."

" _Now_ is later." Jora interjected. "What we do now will have a larger effect later. The humans obviously don't know there is a Covenant presence here."

"How could they _not_ know?" Damerit questioned. "We have a huge ship sitting out in the middle of a field with a large city sprawling up the mountain side."

"It's cloaked." Blue spoke up. "There are perimeter towers all along the perimeter of the town and farmlands that extend up the mountainside." He explained. Giz would slowly nod in agreement.

"So that entire village doesn't show up?"

"Not on scanners. Any orbiting UNSC ships would scan the planet and see maybe some pirate strongholds, but not a decommissioned Covenant ship. If they actually looked, that would be different." Giz explained as best he was able in the situation.

"This canyon is close to the ship. If we kill the entire platoon, then the UNSC will send out scouts and find why before they find any strongholds." Jora attempted to reason. But this was all a guess. No one could actually know what would happen if they killed the humans over just letting them go. Perhaps their efforts wouldn't have made a difference.

"So what do we do?"

The million credit question it seemed like. Jora didn't truthfully know, but his gut was telling him to create a distraction. "Zetra." He would pipe up. "You're going to be a Jiralhanae."

"I'm…sorry _what_?"

Jora patted the dark ground, and then held a fistful of dark brown moss up. "Cover yourself in this, creep around the camp, get the humans attention and then run away."

"But why am I going to be a Jiralhanae?"

"Then the UNSC might think it was Jiralhanae they captured, not Sangheili. They will attack pirate strongholds when they scan, not Covenant because they won't get a scan for Covenant."

There were a few murmurs, but ultimately the plan was better than going in ready to fight. Even if that's what Damerit wanted, it wasn't his choice to make.

Zetra had sighed out reluctantly before handing off his firearm to Gol. "I hope this works." He commented before grabbing thick handfuls of the moss and covering his body with it. He was meticulous about it and in time Gol would start taking chunks of mud and slathering it around to make the most stick better.

With just a matter of moments passed, Zetra went from almost white elite to a dark colored mossy matted mess. It was convincing at least from a distance. "How well can you move and see?" The disguised cadet would just hold up his two thumbs on his one hand, a universal hand gesture to Sangheili that he would be ok. "When you run away, get as much distance, zig zag every which way and then go towards a canyon wall. From there, hide. Use your disguise. When the humans are gone, we will meet you at the big tree."

Another nod and then Zetra moved off. He kept crouching, wanting to move slow and out of sight. When the other was out of sight and the gentle rustling of leaves had faded, Jora looked to the rest of his group. "Now we wait for the humans and we move off in the opposite direction and circle around wide. Give Oddball as much space as he needs.

There were some subtle nods around the group before silence befell them all. The sounds of the jungle had likely drowned out just about everything they said and then some. Jora realized he probably might have been able to sneak off, but he dared not to take that risk. He also would find himself wondering if his long term plan would have done any good. Yet how was he to know.

"What is that!? Chase it!" he heard a voice come over the dull roar of insect noises. Following it was a commotion of yells, then the stamping of feet that faded away into the distance. It seemed their planned worked for now.

Jora sighed out and gestured quietly for his team to move. Gol would shift to gently carry Lar in his arms and the rest would form a perimeter. Jora would take the position beside Giz, reaching for the pistol and keeping pace despite his leg and back. "You gonna be alright?" Giz asked as he noticed his position buddy wasn't doing well.

The dark 'leader' gave a half nod, but said nothing. His eyes were focused behind the group while he sideways. Wuiled and Blue were taking the lead while they all headed to unknown territory. After a few hundred meters, they would start to walk normally again, the team spreading out and keeping Gol in a safe circle. Every now and again, someone would move in a walking 360 to scan their surroundings.

With everything done in silence, there were moments when the team would come to a halt when there was a new sound of something moving. Everyone hunkered down until the source was identified, and then kept moving as it was usually just wildlife.

"How much further?" Topil asked as he looked back over to Jora who had just done a 360 scan.

"I hear water running. We should turn around when we see something."

"Down!" one of the voices interrupted. It didn't matter who, everyone dropped to a knee and hunched over to hide in the under growth. At first there wasn't anything to have made noise, but in time heavy foot falls started up again. The squish of the mud is what gave them away.

It was only a few seconds before Wuiled turned back slowly, gesturing to Jora that there was something watching them. Jora nodded and started a crawl over to the nearest tree, the mud caking around the belly of his suit and especially his wound. He gave out a slight gasp from the sting but pressed on no differently until he could poke his head up from the foliage.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust again, the second they did he saw a figure looming off in the distance, a large one too. It held a familiar shape, but only when it took a few steps forward did Jora see the flash of red armor.

"Come out Cadets." A deep voice spoke. "You cannot hide from thermal and motion tracking."

Jora hesitated for a moment. He didn't see his comrades jump up either, which made him a bit curious. The large creature ahead would turn on some of his suit's plasma lights, stepping forward just a bit more to stand in the glimmer of moonlight that casted down through the thick canopy above.

There was no mistaking it this time. The dark red armor, the curved elegantly carved helmet and the obvious body of a very tall Sangheili male gave him away as a zealot. Jora felt a little bit more confident on stepping out, but he kept his weapon drawn. Just as a precaution. The others did the same, moved out from the growth and kept their distance.

"Stand down, cadets." The zealot called out, taking a few more steps forward. His head would sweep the group, then sweep again as he appeared perplexed. "There are supposed to be 9 of you, why do I count 8?"

"One of us had to distract the humans sir."

Silence came from the adult as his head would rise, as if looking behind where the group had come from for a brief moment. "And where is he?"

"Still running, if I had my guess." Jora responded, gently limping closer to the adult and slowly lowering the stolen firearm. "We are supposed to meet up with him at the big tree"

"Then we should head that way." And the zealot would start to move. He didn't say much else, but his longer legs and fearless nature made him progress considerably faster than the smaller Sangheili children who moved still as a team and were careful. They were chided a few times over the course of the walk, but still, the group refused to move any different.

It was clear at that point by then the Zealot was getting frustrated. Occasionally he would turn and wait, tapping his hoof on the ground and waiting. When the group caught up, he proceeded on and repeated the process. During one of the long gaps while there was significant distance between cadets and zealot, Damerit cussed and hissed about the treatment.

"Why can't _he_ just go slower?" he asked.

"Why don't _we_ just go faster?" Topil responded in a chiding tone.

" _Seriously?"_ Damerit started, but he was soon elbowed in the shoulder by Jora.

"I have a plan. But we need to make sure Oddball is ok." The 'leader' proclaimed as he kept his eyes locked on the adult.

Damerit and Topil would watch Jora's locked gaze, then look to the adult for a moment before quickly figuring out what the end game was. Wuiled would pick up on the silence, whisper it quietly around the group and try to act as he had before.

* * *

It took an hour and a half to get to the tree at the sluggish pace they had taken. The trek hadn't been that taxing or at least none of the cadets had noticed. Only when coming to a stop and ensuring the area was clear did they feel the fatigue in their muscles. The realization of how long it had been since Jora last ate was soon a painful reminder.

"Wait here." The Zealot instructed. The large male starting to move off into a single direction. He soon disappeared into the jungle's thick overgrowth, leaving the 8 cadets to themselves once again.

"Ok, how are we going to capture him?" Topil suddenly blurted out. He had turned to face Jora at this point.

The 'leader' brought himself down to sit on one of the tree roots. His thigh burned continually and made it a bit difficult for him to think about what he needed to say. It took a moment, mostly because he had to glance around and see what they could use.

"Well," he began, using the word to begin his thought. "I honestly don't have a clue." He admitted. Maybe it was the hunger talking, or perhaps it was that they were expected to capture an adult who had been at his game considerably longer than even some of the other adults back on base.

"Not helpful, Jora." Damerit huffed.

"Yeah I know." He admitted, standing up slowly and glancing around again to see what he had available. "There's always wrapping him up in vines." He chuckled, kicking at some of the snaking plants. He already knew that wouldn't work.

"Be serious." Topil added as he joined in the looking around. The younger cadet let out a long sigh. He'd been tired like this before, asked to perform tests and calculations in this state too. Yet he couldn't understand why he struggled now.

"What…if we..." Jora's mandibles were just moving now. An unbecoming trait but sometimes he found it helped to talk it out. After a while his sentence turned into mumblings. Murmurs about what would work and why. He went through pit fall traps, disguises, using brute strength, ambush tactics, traps, and anything and everything in between. All the while he paced, forgetting the pain in his leg and back. His eyes traveled over anything and everything around them, even to the other cadets who would visibly look around to see if the others knew what was going on.

"What's he doing?" Giz asked, looking to the other three normally teamed with Jora. But he received shrugs.

"Jora?" Topil started. "Are you o-"

"Shh…I think…I think..." Jora spoke, interrupting Topil with a hand held up. His eyes would work their way up the tree and a smirk soon formed on his face. His eyes trailed back down to his teammates, then to the assault rifles that Topil and Damerit held. "How's your acting?"

"What?" both asked simultaneously.

"You two are going to run into the forest, screaming or however you want and get off far enough to fire those assault rifles, then go silent, make your way back quietly." Jora started to explain. There were some confused looks going around the group. "Then, the rest of us are going to climb up the tree to the top, convince the Zealot that you two ran off into the forest to draw the humans away. When he hears the screams and gun shots, he'll think you two are dead and want to continue to protect the rest of us." The 'leader' explained.

There were some nods moving around the group. The plan was becoming clearer by the moment. "What's the contingency though?" Blue spoke as his eyes went from the top of the tree and then back down.

"Get him climbing the tree, and then kick him down. His armor should protect him if he's not too high up." Jora countered, his gaze going back to Topil and Damerit. "So hurry back in case that happens. It will be up to you two to capture him until the rest of us get down."

Another nod of affirmation went around the group.

"When do we start?"

" _Now."_


	8. Chapter 7

_**Chapter 7**_

This was a terrible idea.

For starters, Jora hadn't even thought about his injuries and the fatigue of himself and his comrades. Climbing this giant tree was difficult when he was at full strength and energized. Now when they were all barely able to keep their eyes open and their stomachs growled with every passing second. Worse yet there was still a downed cadet that had to be dragged up and poor Wuiled struggled with maintaining his grip and the one over the still unconscious Lar.

"Keep...Keep going!" Jora called out raggedly. He knew his team was faltering, but what else was he to do

By this point, they were about two thirds the way up. The Zealot hadn't returned just yet. Topil and Damerit waited in the trees about 50 meters from where they all originally stood. All they could do then was wait to see the Zealot step into the clearing again before beginning the charade.

Until then, the rest of them could only keep climbing.

"Where _did_ that adult go?" Giz cussed out heavily. His heaving chest and pants making his strong voice breathy and faint. "He shoulda been…back" he added on, grabbing hold of another branch and pulling his body up.

Jora had to pause on one of the thick limbs. Not just to rest, but to assist Wuiled who had been trailing behind him. Gol and Blue were a little ways down; currently resting on another branch for a moment.

"He just said he'd be back...or something like that." Jora replied, though not terribly sure which way it was.

No sooner did he reach down to pull up Wuiled did he hear screaming. Topil and Damerit had jumped out of the trees and started running the other way as quickly as they could. The 'leader' cadet glanced down and saw the Zealot.

"Up here!" he called. Jora did his best to appear frantic.

"Who's screaming?" the adult called back. By then the still climbing cadets double timed their efforts. All to appear more panicked while they moved.

As Jora had peered down, he saw the adult move his hand. A gesture to someone to follow them up the tree. A white face peered through a mess of brown and green. Zetra was on his way up.

"Those two ran off into the woods to distract the UNSC!" Jora called back. "They were onto us, so we ran up the tree to hide!" he added on

As planned the screaming had continued for about a half second longer, then a few controlled burst fires had sounded out and everything had become silent. Jora would continue his climb, but smirk a little as he saw the Zealot turn and start to climb the tree. He moved a lot quicker than the rest of the group, already around 5 meters from the ground. Jora felt this could have gone over perfectly, but he didn't dare trust such a hope.

But it made him wonder when the Sangheili adult would change tactics. Plans like this didn't go off without a hitch. And he honestly didn't really believe the Zealot would fall for any of it. Jora felt he wouldn't have. Yet the rest of the climb continued on. The whole way up and no one said a word different to indicate things could change. Jora began to wonder, but once all 7 Sangheili were sitting up the top of the tree, he felt his doubt over shadow him.

"Are you _sure_ the UNSC were trailing you?" the adult asked once he got settled on one of the stronger branches. The rest of the group remained crouched on the flatter top like structure. Wuiled would finally let Lar rest on his back while the others looked him over to see if there was anything to be done.

"Pretty sure…" Jora panted. He would bring up the enemy's pistol he had acquired from earlier, held it handle out for the adult to take, but it was just slapped out of his hand. The weapon slid across the structure and then down and out, yet Jora could only wonder why.

"We don't pick up human weapons." The zealot sighed out. "And you can tell your friends that as well."

Jora tilted his head to one side, and about questioned it before the hum of a phantom caught his attention. He would look to it; feel that sense of doubt start to overtake him more and more. "Your fellow cadet here…" He spoke, gesturing to Zetra who had been making an effort to clean himself of the moss. "…was cornered by UNSC when I arrived. If you were truly followed and separated, then how would the humans do that with no troops left?"

The others looked to Jora for a moment who could only hold a wide eyed expression, but felt completely undermined. "You _killed_ them, sir?"

"Of course, to which I ask why you hadn't done the same when you had the chance?"

Jora again just could only sit there with a rather gob smacked expression. "Sir, I didn't want the humans to find the Covenant ship. I didn't _want_ the war to come to this planet."

"Good that you think like a leader, but you are a leader of just a squad of children." The Zealot chided, standing around that point and waving the Phantom to the tree. "What you do as children makes no difference to the war. Now, load up. I was ordered to evacuate the valley for real soldiers to make a sweep."

Jora didn't say anything. He just sat there for a long moment and felt overwhelmed with what he was being told. How had he failed when he had done everything in his power to have succeeded and not thrown his men to be slaughtered by stronger forces? The sense of defeat had brought him down a few pegs, but he couldn't see how the Zealot was right.

Perhaps someone back on base had a better answer.

* * *

"Cadet 026 to debrief." An official and calming voice called out. It was likely the new AI that had been finally installed. Evidentially the engineers thought a female voice would have been more pleasant to listen to then the grumbling Sangheili. Jora didn't care one way or another, but it was jarring to have a disembodied voice tell you what to do.

Once they had all returned, there was little time allowed for cleaning up. All other members of his team had been debriefed and sent to mess, but Jora was the last to go. He had waited several hours in a claustrophobia inducing rectangular room with a few scooped out chairs to relax in along the two longer walls. The room was dark gray with hints of purple lights along the bottom and under the chairs.

A door opposite the one he entered opened up and Jora stood, straightened out his sagging and cut uniform, and then proceeded through. Another long hallway and another door waited at the end. Sometimes Jora wondered about the structural choices of things. Why did there need to be a pseudo antechamber to a briefing room?

Once he had cleared that distance, the female voice announced him as he stepped through and to a semi circular room. Before him was a slightly elevated circle on the floor that he was gestured by one of the guards to step up too. Had he known different, he would have sworn he was on a completely different ship.

"Cadet 026," a voice called out. When his eyes adjusted to the rest of the room, he saw three figures sitting before a bench. One he recognized as the Commander, the other to be the Zealot that had told him his actions didn't matter to the war. Both of them sat on either side to a Sangheili clad in golden and rather ornate looking armor. "Cadet, state your name and age." The voice spoke again, this coming from the Commander.

"Sir, Jora 'Moram, age six, sir." He responded promptly. Jora would straighten out his back as best he was able and evenly distribute is weight on both legs.

"You're….six?" a different voice spoke up. One he hadn't heard. Unlike many other Sangheili, this voice was a bit lighter and aged. Yet there was still a form of authority and menace behind it. A purpose that made Jora a bit uneasy even if the tone was calm.

"Y...Yes sir." He replied hesitantly, looking to the only figure he felt had the possibility of holding that voice.

"Impressive, Commander 'Ndulamee had indicated to me that the cadets were kids, but six was not the age I was expecting." The golden armored Sangheili remarked. He would soon stand and bow his head slightly out of some form of respect. Jora responded with the traditional salute. "I am Shipmaster 'Vadumee. You know your Commanding officer and Zealot Trem by now I'm sure."

"Yes sir." Jora responded. He was a bit surprised, arriving here over a year ago; he hadn't expected the ship to actually have a Ship Master behind its helm. Then again this room and briefing chamber had been a prior mystery to him as well.

"What did you see while you were in the jungle, Cadet 026?" the Shipmaster asked as he moved to sit back in his seat, his actions notably stiff as he moved.

"Are you referring to the UNSC soldiers sir?"

"I was eluding to them, yes."

"We were brought to a small camp. I couldn't tell you how, I was unconscious." Jora started to explain, but he was interrupted with a hand held up to indicate to stop.

"The report from the Zealot says you were attempting to rescue another cadet from a Pit fall trap and fell in accidentally."

"I…would suppose that happened."

"So the humans captured you and your team. Then what?"

"Then we attempted an escape, but there were two humans that started to kick 206 multiple times. 074 managed to cut my bonds loose so I jumped up and attacked" the young cadet explained, his voice a bit nervous while he spoke.

"And you killed… _two_ humans on your _own_?"

"I had some help with the last one." He admitted. "But when both humans were killed, I must have passed out. My team said they had dragged me out through a hole in the side of the tent they made."

"And then what?" the shipmaster urged, wishing for Jora to continue.

"I asked one of my teammates to cover himself in moss and lure the humans away from where we were."

"Why?"

Jora flinched and he knew he shouldn't have. Being questioned by his comrades was one thing, but when asked to look back on his decision now, he felt silly. "I had hopes that if my comrade appeared more like a Jiralhanae, then the UNSC would think what they captured wasn't Sangheili but rather something related to the Pirate activity on this planet."

"Was it because you didn't wish to fight the humans you used deception over strength"

Jora scoffed a little, looking briefly to the Zealot and then back to the shipmaster. "I had already fought two on my own; I felt my team was more than capable of handling the humans using militia tactics."

"And yet that was not the decision you made?"

"No, sir"

"Why."

Jora sighed, feeling a bit aggravated with the questions. He knew there had to be a purpose, but he felt that he was just being lead to further shaming. "I had my hopes that had the humans deduced that Pirates were behind the death of two of their humans, then the UNSC would look for Pirates and not the obvious Covenant city and ship docked a few hundred or so kilometers away." The young Cadet spoke, finding himself locking eyes with what he assumed where the shipmasters eyes were.

There was a long pause from that, the commander and zealot glancing over while the ranking officer shifted and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the bench before him. "And, Cadet 026, why were your actions to have the pirates blamed rather than the Covenant?"

The young cadet could only stare. He had wondered how this answer wasn't obvious. Yet as he saw the zealot shift nervously in his seat, he started to understand what this was about. "I didn't wish to bring the war to this planet. I had hoped that perhaps my plan to not have UNSC searching the area for Sangheili would have turned them blind to a Covenant presence."

"And yet your actions were in vain."

The comment wasn't directed to Jora; rather the Sangheili Zealot that set to the shipmaster's left. Even the slow turn of his head had indicated that what Jora did was the right move.

"You then lured the Zealot up the massive tree in order to capture him, wherein you were told your efforts didn't make a difference in the war?"

"Yes, sir."

The Zealot would just sit there, glaring down the empty space between himself and the wall. Jora had a suspicion that his other teammates had all said the same thing.

"Cadet 026." The shipmaster spoke again, his head turning back to the young creature standing in the hot spot of the briefing room. "Do you know what will be asked of you and your remaining cadets?"

Now the Commander was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Jora wondered if there was some sort of secret vendetta going on. It was a bit disconcerting that not everyone was on the same page. "No sir, I do not. I know that we are being trained…for...something."

"What I will tell you is not to be repeated. All of you are trained soldiers under the Covenant. The issue now is age restrictions. Until that time, you will be trained continually and then progress from there." The adult explained as he sat back in his chair. "I understand six years to wait is a long time, but you will not be without combat experience."

"Sir, Combat?"

"Thanks to our Zealot friend here, The UNSC will likely be aware of our presence here in a few short months. We can only predict this, but we would rather be prepared than caught off guard. During this time, I ask you to continue your training as instructed, with the additional command that you will come to the bridge once a week to be instructed by my Sangheili."

There was a brief moment that Jora was unsure of what just happened. Then followed was a swelling of some sort of unseen pride. Though he questioned how many others of his team had this honor, he had suspicion it was just him. "Th...Thank you sir." And Jora saluted as response.

"Cadet, don't lose sight of what you're doing. If the UNSC does find us, you and all of the cadets will be called to protect the city."

"Yes sir."

"You're dismissed, Cadet. Report to medical, then go to mess and you will find there is more than your usual grey slop to feed you." The shipmaster concluded as again he would stand and give a nod. The other two did the same as it was expected of them. Jora would then follow with another thank you and a final salute before turning to leave.

He was indeed proud of himself, but he had to remember this was supposed to be a secret. Something that didn't entirely set with him right.

* * *

"Sir, taking the cadet under your wing? Is that _truly_ necessary?" Grelar spoke as he protested the decision. He did wish to reward the cadet for hard work, but to go that far was something he didn't agree with.

"Commander, Cadet 026 out of all of your 'spec' team has shown the most promise" the shipmaster sighed, almost tired of having this conversation. "His lineage aside, he has physically and mentally conquered a pack of trained UNSC scout troops. At a young age as well."

"You speak as if the cadets aren't at all trained." Trem spoke up. His right hand came down as a fist and left a dull thunk to echo around the room. "I saw how they moved. They move like the humans. They know they are smaller and venerable."

"Yes, we heard your report as well, and there is another issue to bring forward." The ship master interrupted as he slowly swiveled his head over to his left. Golden eyes would glare over the Zealot for a brief second or two before a shift in tone. "That cadet had the fore thought to protect this planet from war, zealot. "The shipmaster started. Trem would visibly slouch, a clear sign to everyone in the room that his guilt was obvious.

"I am aware."

"Yet you informed the cadet that his plan was folly and that his efforts were pointless, only after undermining them by killing the UNSC troops. Cadet 245 wasn't in any sort of danger when you found him. In fact you had no knowledge of where he was until he stood up."

"The brat was covered in moss and laying flat in a bog pool with barely his head exposed." Trem defended. It was a terrible idea to even raise his voice.

"Close your mandibles. Cadet Zetra has a white skin tone, yet you couldn't find him. He was in no danger, you simply wished to kill the humans is my point."

Trem was silent at that point. The commander could only sit at his post and keep his head hanged.

"Regardless of whether the cadet's plan would have worked, his actions spoke more than the results. He is aware there are women and children on this planet. A keep that is relatively defenseless outside of a gaggle of misfit Sangheili serving out their mistakes. It is a _disgrace_ to have so many dishonorable soldiers walking around my ship and corrupting the minds of these young children with bigoted and overly confident teachings." The ship master hissed, his attention going from Trem to the Commander.

"Regardless." The commander finally found his voice and took his stand. "Whether the Covenant has named my soldiers as incompetent elder Sangheili or dishonorable young warriors who were brasher than needed, the cadets are being trained properly."

"And they will be." The shipmaster interjected. He let his gaze linger over Grelar for several seconds before speaking again. "I will ensure of this myself if need be. The Ministry of Defense has listed me as a backup if the cadets show little progression.

The commander's head jerked upward and his body turned to square more with the golden clad authority. "I was not aware of this."

"You weren't supposed to be. It was to encourage your command to be strong enough to teach these children while you yourself didn't feel you had a backup.

"Why tell me?" Grelar asked, though regretted the question relatively quickly.

"It seems you need a back up." The shipmaster smirked. He stood and turned to walk a few paces towards the not as visible door to a small elevator that would lead to the bridge. "When the cadets have reached a normal Sangheili size, they will be fitted with standard armor and sent into combat. I estimate by their 8th year, they will be tall enough and strong enough to join quietly."

"You're going to put them in the military anyway?" Grelar asked as he stood abruptly. The stool he was sitting in practically falling over before the magnetic feet caught hold of the floor again. "They are children!"

"They are." The shipmaster agreed. He would slowly come to a stand and pick up his data pad that he had sitting to one side of his appointed space. "But they are also Sangheili and you know as well as I do, the Sangheili are warriors at heart."

"Agreed bu-"

"And would you also not agree that you have been training these children to be dogs of war?"

Grelar's hinged mandibles would go slack in disbelief, but they would again tighten in an expression of tight 'lipped' silence. He couldn't disagree despite how he wished to argue the ethics of training children for a war that might not even exist when they were grown enough.

"I presume your silence is of agreement. Their 8th year. I want them fitted for armor and combat ready. When does the first one turn?"

Grelar again had to stop and think. They started with two hundred sixty five. Since the trials of all groups, the numbers have dwindled significantly. "There should be..." he paused, trying to remember all the names. Some of the oldest ones were barely half way through their sixth year already. "If I'm not mistaken, there are three or four that will turn in approximately a year and a half from now"

The Shipmaster nodded in solemn agreement. "And how many cadets do you have in the barracks now?"

That was a number Grelar almost didn't want to repeat. But he forced himself too. "One hundred and ninety two." But he paused and shook his head to indicate he had a correction. "But we are expecting that number to be ninety one by the end of the day."

"Who?"

"The cadets called him Lar. Cadet 206 was one of the Cadets on this recent mission through specs. He suffered lacerations along his limbs and torso as well as blunt trauma to the head and chest. Currently he is a vegetable." The commander explained grimly. His tone had gone quiet as he looked between the shipmaster and his trusted zealot second hand.

"I see," came the solemn response of the golden armor Sangheili. He took a moment of silence and then heaved out a long sigh. "And how many do you anticipate to lose if the humans come?"

"I hope none, but that's the ideal world." Grelar replied, a somewhat uncalled for chuckle leaving his throat and chest. It was a terrible attempt at war humor, but the shipmaster returned the chuckle. "I wouldn't be able to estimate without specifics. But their biggest trial won't be facing the humans. It will be surviving what the Minister of Safeguard has for them."

The two other Sangheili tilted their heads towards the commander. Both were out of confusion and the shipmaster out of silent rage. "What is the Minister planning and when?"

"You said that they will be Reapers. They are Reapers. And the Minister's only plan for them is counter weapons to the Demons."

"I'm not in the mood for jokes." The Shipmaster barked, his body posture squaring off with the commander at that point.

Grelar gave a small smirk and a soft chuckle. "I wish I could say I was joking."


	9. Chapter 8

_**Chapter 8**_

 **0600 hours, October 2, 2532 (translated calendar)**

 **Ministry of Safeguard Training Facility Sector 2**

 **Noble Shadows**

 **Star System Classified**

* * *

It was back to the same old routine.

Wake up; PT.

Eat Breakfast; PT

Lunch; guess what, more physical training

Study; then, you guessed it. More of the same.

The only difference was, the cadets were getting good at it. Faster, stronger, more capable and ready for every challenge they were faced with. It was even to a point where the adults were running out of things to do for them to do. Even the rather simple minded Zetra was born of the same old training.

Jora was getting to a point in abhorring it.

"Can't they run us through more simulations or put us through the jungle again?" Damerit fussed as he bounced threw a ball against the bare wall above his bunk. It would bounce back with a dull rubbery thunk and he would alternate hands in catching and throwing. "Something other than _this_ boring crap?"

"Your studies are slipping." Jora reminded, his fingers testing over the arum's smooth wooden features. Even after a full year he hadn't managed to crack it. Not that he had but an hour to make an attempt at it every day. With the nonstop training and studying, there was just barely time in between dinner and lights out to mess with the gadget. For the longest time every moment he was interrupted, he had to try and reset it and start over. Now he was memorizing each little turn to get to reset and to the point that stumped him. Each night he would get a few turns closer.

"And your physical training is slipping, _book worm_." Damerit called out. He tilted his head back, the gray colored cadet resting on his dorsal with feet propped up on the metal headboard. When Jora glanced up, he could see straight down his comrade's throat and it wasn't an appealing sight.

"Shut your mandibles. It's bad enough I have to _watch_ you eat." Jora replied as he leaned more onto the cot's surface. He turned his attention back to the little device in his fingers, otherwise he propped his hooves and heels on the bed and brought his knees up in the air while his back rested against a raised up pillow.

Damerit didn't seem to have much a response to this. Aside throwing the ball he had a little harder against the barrack wall so that instead of landing back in his hands, it would bounce back against Jora's knee. There came a deep sigh from the smaller cadet, but he would indeed set aside his little toy and slowly move to sit himself at the edge of the bed, then stand. His weight favored his left leg while his right had been completely covered in bandages all along the thigh.

Since then he had to forfeit the suit provided. With everyone back in their loin cloths, there was little hiding the injuries from their mission. Small and still healing scratches littered their hides; a few had larger scrapes and bruises from falls or from just bumping into things. Jora suffered worse with the blade he took and the beating. His normally almost white chest now a varying shade of splotchy purple from the brutal punch Jeff was so polite to give him. Abrasions around his wrists as all in his team had suffered. In time things would mend, but the more dangerous wounds were mental.

Since the loss of 206, the remaining squad had changed. While Jora's team had been reunited, the other three that were from the other half had fallen quiet and cold. Many had as of late. Many of the Sangheili children had their attitudes changed and their sights clouded with the loss. The monotonous training hadn't helped, but in truth this was just what Jora saw from the Spec group. Even his own five had changed in personality.

The most obvious had been in the restless Damerit. In just the past week, after returning from the jungle, the cadet changed. He appeared more aggressive and agitated. Jora saw it as a sign of boredom and possibly even a method to cope with whatever internal issues were present. Yet he knew just sitting down and having a heart to heart wouldn't help. Damerit was the type to fight it out.

A half step or so close to Damerit's bunk and already the taller Sangheili was standing. His shoulders were held tense and posture rigid and squared with Jora. The two had sparred before, even verbally bashed each other, but outside their first fight a year and a half ago, things had never gotten to another fight.

"I'm getting tired of you acting like you are better than us" the other cadet spoke, his right 'index' finger pointing towards Jora before the rest of his hand would sweep over the rest of their team who were working over some study material for the next day. Jora noticed that at least three heads swiveled over to the louder than usual tone. Others in the Spec group would also turn their attention to the start of a fight, yet no one moved.

"I'm _not_ better than you, Damerit. You should _know_ this." Jora defended, though he half expected those words to fly in one ear hole and out the other. It was why Jora's eyes would look over every tense muscle that twitched. Which was going to come at him first, a hoof or fist?

"Yet you _boss_ us around!" the cadet huffed. "No one _made_ you the leader!"

Jora was about ready to agree, but he was met with a cleft hook to his jaw. Even though he had seen the twitch, he was still caught off guard. Something he hoped wouldn't happen again.

His leg was strong enough to catch his weight and duck under a jab. The smaller cadet knew he couldn't win a fist fight, especially against Damerit who was a half inch taller and much heavier. Had he been in peak physical condition, he would have considered it. As he was, the action of an all out brawl wasn't an ideal option.

Jora charged after his duck. His arms wide spread and head tucked while he tackled Damerit at the waist. His force brought the two to the ground and the weight of them both was enough to knock the wind briefly out of Damerit, but his hands weren't idle. His punches were a bit less focused and worse were the kick or two that jabbed at Jora's knee. He rolled slightly to one side, taking a very close kick to his inner thigh in the process. It wouldn't deter Jora; instead he would keep his head against Damerit's stomach before rearing back and ramming the top of his skull into his comrade's belly.

That brought out a forceful grunt and a cough. Damerit lost a little bit of steam afterward, which the smaller cadet took as an opening. As quickly as he could, he swiveled his body around to end up near his comrade's shoulders. His arms would reach out to the cadet's long neck and wrapping around them while his body managed to tug Damerit closer and into a choke hold. The awkward position was painful for him, but there was a point to prove in all this.

The fight deescalate there. Damerit became lax in his movements and soon limp, at which point Jora released the taller cadet and sat him upright. A firm pat to the back and the cadet came too quickly, with a gasp and his hand coming to his neck for a moment. Bewildered eyes traveled around the room, wherein Topil, Wuiled, and Zetra had shifted to stop the fight. Even the other cadets had jumped up to see what was going on. Some let out groans of disappointment with it ending so quickly.

"Jora…" Damerit gasped out after he realized that he could breathe on his own and talk too.

" _Shut up, Roughbite_." Jora huffed back. He used the nickname only to show he meant no hard feelings over anything. "Your mandibles have _done_ enough talking tonight. The only thing that needs to be said is that I don't _want_ to be the 'leader'. I'm just looking out for _my_ guys."

He didn't say anything else afterward. Instead the small dark Sangheili stood, uncertain of which leg to favor after some of the more brutal kicks. Still he extended his left hand, an offer to stand his comrade up and get him back to status quo. Whether that happened was dependent upon Damerit.

* * *

The following morning began like usual. Waking up at 0500, shower and then time for early morning PT. Things hadn't gone near as smooth as the day before. Damerit had been pulled aside at some point before morning brief to investigate the bruises on his neck; sometime later Jora was brought to the Commander's table at mess.

"Why are you limping?" he was asked.

"Damerit and I got into a scuffle last night." Jora replied curtly, trying hard to remain straight as a board despite the ache in his back.

The Commander said nothing and would give only a brief hum of acknowledgement. "You're dismissed to the bridge." He eventually commanded. The four pronged eating utensil would briefly poke at the yellowish rubbery mess on the Commander's tray, but overall nothing was actually brought to his jaws. Jora took note of this, but tried not to focus on the detail.

"How do I get to the bridge, sir?" he asked quickly. He started to gather the feeling he was interrupting something or was in trouble. It only dawned on him that perhaps he was to be instructed by the shipmaster as instructed back a few days ago.

The Commander glanced up, briefly looking over the cadet with rather glossed over eyes. Jora felt the scrutiny a bit odd. The commander never acted like this and it brought him to be rather curious for a moment or two. "Trem will show you the way." was the response followed by a gentle wave of his left hand. The gesture a combination of _'he's over there'_ and _'go away'._

Jora saluted briefly before following the direction, finding the zealot quickly and repeating the salute again until he was noticed. "I need to report to the bridge." He said as soon as the adult looked his way.

There came a long sigh and the red armored Sangheili would stand from his spot at the table. A quick tilt of the head and Jora was expected to follow. The trip was wordless. Only the dull thunk of the adult's armored hooves clunking along the carbon floors filled the immediate silence. Everything else was background noise. Other teams were conducting their usual training regimens of running around the base and completing various exercises. None seemed to notice the passing by pair, which brought some comfort to the young cadet. Though while he walked past the other teams, he noticed some of them were getting big. Especially Group Shield.

All the cadets he observed with the ones wearing a blue band were already taller than Wuiled. They even appeared stronger too. Blade Group with the red were quick and agile and Jora swore in the time he passed some of their squads, he saw at least two or three fights break out. Fights that seemed legitimately worse than the squabble he had last night with his own teammate.

"Sir?" he started, waiting for acknowledgement before continuing. However Jora wouldn't receive such treatment. He was only allowed a continuous view of the segmented armored back. It brought the small Sangheili to legitimately question Trem and even the Commander. Why now the cold shoulder? He wondered if this had something to do with that report and the almost verbal bashing both sides took while the ship master interrogated him. Perhaps even some resentment about such a higher authority taking a child under his proverbial wing?

Whatever it was Jora was sure off put by the treatment. He felt there were better ways of handling not wishing to speak outside ignoring someone.

His attention would move back to the other groups. As he watched each and every one of the teams continue to function in such a fashion, he started to feel jealous. From what he saw, his team had nothing special to it. They were all small and rather unorthodox. His team alone had a rainbow of personality that not a one of them had uniformity. Yet as he stared into the other groups, they all moved like one team and fought just the same. Maybe the 'Spec' squad was really as they said it was. A special squad of Sangheili picked and stuck together because of whatever unseen handicap they had.

Jora shuddered at the thought of realizing he might be cannon fodder.

All through the walk his thoughts never changed. The same views were shared as he watched Lance team hurdle through obstacles with the greatest of ease and climb walls three times as high as an adult with just a few well place rocks and their strength. Grenade had the lowest number, but all the 15 of the remaining 33 seemed to be efficient in making the crudest of explosives and then disarming their own teammate's creations. Even assembling and launching firearms. The explosions from that sect of the ship made Jora's chest rumble, and for a moment he almost briefly wished the zealot before him would move a bit faster.

However they both stopped. A swarm of cadets were on the approach, their assigned group adult leading the pack on a standard jog. As they all passed, Jora couldn't help but notice that they all wore the infantry band. And if any of the groups appeared to move like as one, it had to be this one. He swore that every last one of them were the same color and the exact same size. All had a dull look in their eyes and not a single one glanced over to see why a cadet with a black arm band was being escorted by a zealot.

Once the herd passed, Trem continued forward. While Jora's eyes and head were still tracking the departing team, he soon didn't have the ability to watch any teams further. The hangar bay had come to its end and before them now were a serious of large doors that lead to a maze of gray corridors. He remembered having jogged these halls before. Single file or two by two, but for the life of him, he couldn't tell what hallway lead to where.

Despite how Jora attempted to keep track of the turns and criss-crosses, his attention would be thrown off by a passing group of Unggoy or Kig-Yar. Rarely were they on the side of the ship he resided on. Sometimes he would even catch glances from other Sangheili. They were followed by chuckles and a variety of slurs and derogatory remarks about his size and stature. Jora wanted to feel offended, but frankly he had different things to worry about.

In time he was lead into another large room. This one spiraled upward with a large glowing beam taking up the majority of its center. While massive, it seemed almost taller than wide. The rest of the room seemed to store a variety of cargo crates which were being moved every which way and stacked all along the upper walls using drones and even Huragok. As things floated around above, Sangheili and Unggoy below would sort through all the crates to label what was to go where. It was indeed an impressive feat, yet Jora wondered if they ever ran out of crates to go through or sort out.

"Go into the gravity well and the bridge will be topside." He was suddenly instructed. The zealot had stopped before grooved ramp leading to the base floor where the other members of the covenant were. Out of curiosity, Jora glanced upward to get some sort of an answer as to why he was being sent on his own; but no sooner did he look, Trem was already turned around and heading back the way he had come from. Still off put, the small cadet wrinkled the end of his muzzle and gave out a quiet huff. Only then would he turn and try not to limp down the ramp.

Once on the base floor, his hooves kept going. His eyes were held forward and toward the shimmering bluish white light that stood before him. He knew there were stares, possibly even some questions given to him, but he wanted to get through quickly without being stopped. His hooves pressed onward, soon stepping onto the platform where the light seemed to rise from. No sooner had he got both hooves in did his body levitate. His form near weightless as it had been in the 'space' simulator rooms they had for training. Had he been less in control of his still childish psyche, Jora would have taken the time to play around in the zero gravity and maybe make some fun poses.

Alas it was a rather short ride up despite Jora's wish to observe the spiral structure being lined with crates. However he soon felt his weight shift and then slowly be guided back where his hooves rested flat on the cold metal ground. Once the rest of his weight returned, his eyes traveled around the room. It was an oval shape, same coloration as the rest of the ship with the same glowing purple bulbs that lined the floor and ceiling. There was only one door, a tall Sangheili standing in before it. He wore rather ornate orange armor and it was a rather perplexing design for such a simple place. Jora had recognized him as an honor guard, yet they were never aboard the ship.

"State your business." The thing grunted at him, tilting his head down slightly. The faint glint of fearsome eyes would glare Jora down, but frankly he was used to the scrutiny.

"I'm here to see Ship Master 'Vadumee." Jora stated clearly. His rather puny voice had only a little more backing than normal. The guard didn't seem to really flinch or look a different way. Rather he would stare back and continue the gaze for some time, as if waiting for Jora to flinch or show some sign of weakness. Yet as the silence passed, the guard would only relax and eventually turn to pass through the door. It would shut briskly behind and Jora as left standing in a room in silence. While it was brief, it let him adjust to the sounds going on behind the thick metal walls.

There was yelling; a significant amount to be heard through such walls. But it only seemed to come from one individual. Naturally, Jora edged forward, keeping out of the automatic door's sensor and listening as best he was able.

" _ **Why**_ _is it that we are approaching our_ _ **second**_ _full year and we_ _ **haven't**_ _progressed!?"_ the voice screamed out. There seemed to be a clatter of objects after that, followed by brief silence. Then the voice returned. _"It matters not; I have the Prophets breathing down_ _ **my**_ _neck for results! Yet you present to me_ _ **just more**_ _of the same…"_

Again there was silence, though as Jora stepped forward, he swore he heard another voice. It was more familiar and deeper in tone. He swore he heard something about training progression and children.

" _They are_ _ **not**_ _children! They are_ _ **subjects**_ _and we have the capability to accelerate their growth!"_ was the response. Immediately Jora brought stepped forward. He moved around the door's sensor and pressed the side of his head and neck against the wall. The conversation from there was muffled and only some words were questionable, but he could make them out.

" _They are still too small!"_ replied the other voice, most likely a Sangheili and most likely the Ship master himself.

" _That matters not! The humans researched and created_ _ **their**_ _Demons when they were but children!"_ the voice likely belonging to a prophet argued.

" _They only experimented on_ _ **one**_ _group of human children, not all of them. Their other groups were teenagers and adults!"_

" _And they are humans! How is it we cannot produce similar results with younger Sangheili children!?"_ again that prophet voice screeched, a somewhat threatening bang coming from somewhere in the room. Likely a chair falling over, but Jora couldn't know. He just knew the noise was loud enough for him to recoil back and shake his head from the ringing.

" _We cannot use the_ _ **same**_ _parameters for our experiments!"_ a different voice called out. Jora had never heard it before, but it also sounded like a Sangheili with that deep almost throaty accent. _"We are already_ _ **changing**_ _one variable to the experiment by using a different species. I can't ensure even close to the same percentage if we don't wait until they are old enough!"_

" _Then do you wish to explain to the Hierarchs why it is that our soldiers will continue to be slaughtered on the battle field by the Demons? I will more than gladly haul you in to show your incorrect answers are falling on deaf ears!"_

There was a followed period of silence. Whoever was in there pacing around for a moment before finally someone spoke up. "Then you can also explain to the Prophets why the chance of success will drastically fall. Besides, they are still going to need training and recuperation. We can't just drag a bunch of eight year old Sangheili boys out of experimentation and expect them to be fully operational in battle against highly trained UNSC forces!" the other voice reasoned _._ _"Then we would be back to where we started and we don't have the time to reselect candidates and train the-"_

The unidentified voice had stopped at that point. Silence came over the chamber before there were some dull thunks of hoof steps. A few moments later, the door opened and a Sangheili Jora had never seen stepped out. He wore traditional armor blue soldier armor, but by the way he moved it was likely just for protection on the field. His head moved more snake like, lower than how a normal soldier held himself. Even his body posture appeared more hunched over. He otherwise walked normally, stumbling over his hooves here and there but otherwise it was the exaggerated movements his head made that set him apart.

"Were you listening?" he asked, looking over the cadet with brilliant turquoise eyes.

Jora straightened out and saluted, though he wasn't sure if he needed to. "Yes sir, I was" he admitted. "I had heard raised voices. I know that doesn't make it right bu-" a palm of a hand flared out, indicating Jora should stop talking.

"Come with me" the adult gestured, soon after he started back to where he came from. Jora did as told and moved through the open door. He stopped rather quickly once realizing he was on the bridge. The strange Sangheili stood closest to him, then the honor guard, a San 'Shyuum resting in his ornate chair, then beyond him the Shipmaster. Jora saluted again, which he received a half nod from the Shipmaster and a scoff from the San 'Shyuum.

"This is one of the cadets I presume?" the strange creature in the chair asked. He would swivel the bulky device around. Those unnerving blue eyes would look over him and Jora remembered who this was near instantly from there. Though he couldn't exactly remember the title appointed to the Minister.

"Yes." The golden armored Sangheili stepped past the hovering chair and even past the accompanying honor guard. "This is 026, Jora 'Moram"

"I don't _care_ what his name is"

"You should." The shipmaster spoke. He would move to walk around Jora, then stand behind him and gently place his knee to the cadets back. He knew what the gesture meant but in truth he never had a male figure extend any sign of protectiveness towards him. Least of all in such an obvious fashion

"And _why_ is that, shipmaster? He isn't of your clan, so I presume he is not a blood relative." The Minister spat back. Despite is obvious distaste; he wouldn't move the chair any closer.

"I have selected him personally for training under my example. I've looked over his files, witnessed him train, and find myself rather impressed with his record so far." The Shipmaster admitted, which left Jora feeling rather strange. Almost proud.

The other Sangheili approached at this point- the odd one. "You know you shouldn't show favoritism to the subjects. It's harder on the experiments."

"But it gives him and the others more of a reason to pull through." Was the prompt defense

"You've selected only one however" the Minister pointed out.

"The cadets are to be assigned under my watch soon. When they are, I intend to have them bond with some of my best warriors." The shipmaster explained.

All of this brought Jora a great deal of confusion. It was like he could see the puzzle from a fair distance, but it was missing pieces and he couldn't even guess what the end picture was supposed to be. This cloud made him feel uneasy and shift between his hooves before he finally spoke up.

"If I may." His puny voice barely made much an impact between the other two males and the Minister. "I... _don't_ understand everything you're talking about. Frankly, I _don't_ care either, nor does it set right with me to know about experiments." Jora explained. He was trying his best to be clear and concise. "But I do know that we are all rather aimless. We continue our training without reason." He explained.

"Which is why the subjects are ready for progress" the Minister interjected. He was prepared to say more, but paused and looked to the Shipmaster behind him.

"Let him speak."

"Thank you, sir. " Jora sighed out, feeling a little less like a toddler at this point. "My group especially has been trained in a great deal many things. While I can't proclaim we are masters at it, we _are_ tired of the same training. To not know what our purpose is." The small cadet spoke. At some point he even brought a hand to the side of his neck, rubbing it and the loose scales gently. "And as I come here, I look to the other groups and see their uniform movements and strengths and wonder if the group I've been placed in isn't cannon fodder"

Jora from there felt he didn't need to say anymore. His amber eyes would glance around the room and he was only met with silence. Had he said something wrong Or had he miss-stepped and should have sat silently as normal.

Instead he was met with that strange Sangheili again, this time his body hunched just enough to where he could be eye to eye with Jora. "How _old_ are you again?"

"I…think I turned six a couple weeks ago"

There was a long pause of silence. Looks exchanged between adults before the odd Sangheili walked over to retrieve something from around the corner. Meanwhile the Minister approached with the strange hovering ornate chair. Jora silently noted that the propulsion stirred up dust underneath which almost looked like a mini cyclone.

"You are just six?" the Minister asked. Jora would respond with a gentle nod of his head and slight flicker in his mandibles. "How are your scores?"

Jora was about to answer with 'I don't know' but instead he hushed when the odd Sangheili returned. "His lowest score is in physical training, strength tests, and agility tests. Otherwise his academics are…flawless?"

" _Flawless_? These are the same tests given to adult Sangheili who have been in training for several years." The Minister replied, looking back and forth between Jora and the odd one reading through a whole data pad of information. "What are his lowest scores compared to?"

"Physical training scores show he tests 35% below than the average adult. Strength is 10% below, and agility is actually 5% above." The Sangheili repeated. "I'll show that his mental focus is 40% higher, Literature 60% higher, Linguistics 25% higher, Knowledge 34% higher, ate-"

"I don't wish to hear any more statistics!" the Minister snapped. "I understand what you're saying; he is smarter than the average adult Sangheili. But his physical prowess is lacking."

The shipmaster let out a grumble of a growl at this point. He stepped around and past Jora with great ease and strode past the group with such speed that he almost knocked the hover chair off rotation when bumping into it. He disappeared for a few seconds then returned with a slew of data pads in his hands.

" **Cadet 162** , **Wuiled**. Scored in physical training and strength test 10% _higher_ than the average adult. **Cadet 245** , **Zetra**. He tested 60% _higher_ in agility. 074, **Topil** tested across the board average in all three physical tests of 15% _above_ with near equal scores in academics. And **143** , **Damerit** has a 20% _higher_ in Physical training, 3% higher in strength and 22% higher in agility." The Shipmaster pointed out, soon looking back to the Minister.

"What's your point? The ones you listed off likely have lower academic scores!"

"Not as high as Jora, no, but still decently high. The rest of the Spec team all share similar traits. The food we give them is specially designed to favor their stronger genetic attributes now and later we change the formula to even them out." The oddball scientist explained.

Jora caught up in the middle of this truly felt a bit like he shouldn't be there. They were all talking about his team. Talking about them like test subjects. He knew they were, but at the same time it wouldn't stop the surreal sensation that overwhelmed him. Jora started to feel more like a herd animal being raised for its special meat more over anything else.

"The Spec group is _meant_ to be a highly advanced team trained as generalists. The Blade team is highly aggressive, Shield massive and bulky! And so on!" The odd one explained, practically throwing the data pad he had in his hand from slippery nervous fingers. "Each group is given specific formulas to better adapt them to what they are trained for! I promise you, the other cadets in any group other than spec aren't as diverse in their test scores!"

Again another bout of silence though it was soon broken when the shipmaster would return the data pads back to wherever he got them. "I assure you, Minister. These cadets might be physically and mentally ready to handle the curve you want to give them" he started his tone rather calm despite the flurry of arguments before. "And while I can't just point at this cadet and say he's but a child because he isn't. He and every last one of the cadets are in fact soldiers."

"Where is your point then?" the Minister spoke with skepticism over his facial features and tone.

"They need more time. They are soldiers, but they haven't been given a greater purpose yet. They know only one thing right now." The Shipmaster spoke and he gestured his hand toward Jora, indicating he needed to speak.

He didn't know truthfully what he should have said at that point. There were a multitude of words that Jora could utter that they were doing. However the cadet's mandibles moved for him. With his voice they uttered only one phrase:

"We…only know how to _train_."


	10. Chapter 9

_**Chapter 9**_

Once the dust had settled, which took a considerable amount of time considering the Minister had a menagerie of questions for Jora, the San 'Shyuum departed. The Shipmaster had been so kind to escort the strange long necked creature which left the cadet with the rather strange Sangheili.

"Quite a presumptuous official, as most Prophets are." The odd adult uttered to himself. At some point he had turned, walked back to where the Shipmaster had retrieved all the files. Only after a few minutes of his disappearance did Jora venture to see what awaited him around the corner.

A few paces forward and his head snaked more forward and around. While his neck wasn't as long as it would be one day, he was still able to see around the corner before the rest of his body had caught up. From around the corner, the room ballooned out. It was an elongated oval shape and filled to the brim with computer systems, monitors of massive sizes and a great deal many railings for crew to hang on to. Though at the moment, all the screens were pitch black and the only glow came from the center.

A rather massive table like surface took up the majority of the center. Though it had a thick raised ledge, Jora couldn't tell exactly what made up the rest of the surface. He could only speculate that the rest was a holographic screen. At the closest end to him rested a rather large and comfy chair. The base had two or three sections, which indicated to him that this chair could and would hover. Jora carefully wandered over to it. Spotting the adult along wall milling through a rounded cabinet, the cadet took slight precaution on examining the chair and soon the holographic table. He wasn't sure if he would be allowed near and around what he could only presume was the bridge to the ship.

When Jora finally did creep closer to the command chair, he saw the spacious design. Almost like a large gray throne of sorts. He was certain that with the golden armored Sangheili sitting in it; it hovered a good few inches from where it was currently docked. That wasn't the point of interest though. Now at a higher level, the cadet could see the table's surface finally. It was glowing blue with a holographic grid screen. The cadet moved closer, touched his left hand to the edge of the table, hearing a low hum immediately afterward that brought his hand to jerk back.

The shimmering grid screen changed and started to form shapes. Peaks and valleys, then trees, farms, and buildings all formed and with a half second of observation, he recognized the village surrounding the ship. A small bell like sound reverberated through Jora's skull and shortly after little green dots started to form all over the projected map. They would seem to slowly dance over the map. All moving slowly and in a rather interesting pattern that was unique to each dot.

"Curious?" a voice sounded.

Jora jumped a little and took a step back. His head swiveled to his right and was met with the odd adult. "Yes, sir. Sorry."

"No reason for it." The odd one explained as he shuffled from one side of the table to the opposing long side. "I'm sure you know what this is?"

"A holo-map?" Jora answered, his eyes glancing from table to the adult. He received a prompt nod and silence. The odd Sangheili tapped at the opposing side's ridge. As he did, sounds filled the room and the map would respond to each command by changing colors or zooming in and out. When it zoomed in on certain spots, Jora noticed the green dots turned into figures and shapes. Very quickly did he understand that the dots represented the Covenant citizens in the city- women and children were included.

"May I speak candidly, sir?" Jora asked as his eyes came up to the adult across him. Again he received a nod and the cadet let a rare smirk form over his features. "This is pretty interesting."

"You're _intrigued_?" the adult asked. The cadet nodded and started to lean forward a bit more so he could stick his head almost through some of the holograms. He felt the static cling to his leathery skin when he ventured to close to a mountain and instantly backed away in fear of shock.

The adult noticed this. "It won't shock you. The electromagnetic waves of the screen are harmless to us. It _might_ mess with neurological computer implants or an HUD system if you ever get armor, but you won't be harmed." He had explained. By then the adult had decided to walk around the table and mess with a few other instruments and computers that stretched along the semicircular wall. When Jora thought they had been off, in truth the systems were placed in a lower power stasis.

"Can I ask a question sir?" Jora finally asked, though even then he wondered if it was a question he could get an answer to. "Who are you?"

The adult paused, raised his head up as high as it seemed it would go despite his hunched appearance. At that point he almost seemed like a normal soldier- especially with that blue armor. "I never introduced myself?" he asked in response. His head came down and the adult awkwardly shuffled over to Jora, his head soon mere inches from the small child's face. It was actually a bit unnerving and the cadet took a step back as an instinct to get some distance. The adult didn't seem to notice this discomfort and even took a half step forward to accommodate.

"My name is Akit 'Neermee." He announced, "I am _one_ of High Charity's few Sangheili biological, behavioral, and psychological scientists."

Jora stood in with a perplexed expression showing through his body language. His head was slightly tilted to one side, his brows asymmetrically cocked and his head held low while making eye contact with the those teal orbs Akit had. "A Sangheili Scienti-"

"It's a _rare_ career path, I understand, but I was a military ship rat for many years in my youth. All genetic engineering and testing and what have you. Unpleasant stuff." Akit explained as he decided finally to give a cushion for Jora, all while moving back over to that computer he had been fiddling with prior.

"Ship rat?"

"Test subject. That's what the hunches call them in the labs."

"Hunches?" Jora questioned again. He felt this was English vocabulary class all over. A shudder ran down his spine in remembering that day, but he soon recovered.

"The San 'Shyuum." Akit clarified. He would move one of the stools to where he could sit and interact with the touch screen comfortably. Jora wouldn't budge from his spot. He was even afraid to ask another question; fearing he would receive another term or concept he wouldn't understand and that needed a string of questions so he could better understand.

He decided to change the subject.

"Sir, wh-"

"Enough with the military formalities please. You can just refer to me as Akit or 'hey you'"

Jora blinked and stood with his remaining mandibles agape. This Sangheili had been called odd before he had much a chance to talk, but now he was ready to venture that downright weird was a better selection.

"Uhm…where is everyone?" he finally asked.

"Who?"

"The Shipmaster explained that he was taking me under his attention, and that he and his staff would oversee….something." Jora explained, though with the odd behavior of Akit, he truthfully wasn't sure what he had been told.

"Ah, well at the moment the Shipmaster is ensuring that the Minister is shown off the ship. Reasons being between him and the Minister of course." Akit explained. His fingers never seemed to stop but would instead glide over the keys and patterns presented to him over the screen. "As for his usual bridge crew, they are around. They rotate in shifts of two days in here and a day outside in the village; otherwise they would rarely see the outside world."

The cadet had to accept the answer and decided to turn his attention back to the holo-map. It would hold his interest a while longer, or at least until he had another question to ask. Jora did and of course he wanted to know more about what that conversation prior had been about. Using words like 'subjects' and 'experiments' had him concerned. The explanation that he and his fellow cadets were being trained for some unknown higher purpose had him skeptical. The worse being he was being groomed to face creatures known as 'Demons'. Jora didn't like the uncertainty and decided to just come out right and ask.

"What are we test subjects for?"

Akit's fingers stopped instantly. Wherever they were, they stayed for several seconds. The adult's arms were held rigid and while Jora couldn't see his face, he knew there was some sort of expression of shock.

"I understand that we are being fed growth hormones and all, and there was something about how the humans could do it so why can't the Covenant" Jora repeated. Now he decided to walk more toward Akit. His right hand stayed along the smooth edge of the table and would glide along as he moved parallel to it. "But what, if anything, is the Covenant trying to accomplish? That Sangheili can be raised faster and put to battle sooner?"

"It's classified" came the quiet voice from the adult. That was an answer Jora didn't like and didn't accept.

"What's classified? Are we…what was the term you used, ship rats?" he pressed.

"I told you, _it's classified_. Your training now so you can handle the tests in the future" Akit spoke. The cadet could see his body posture go stiff. His hands had balled into fists and head lowered. Yet the voice remained quiet- almost turning to a whisper.

"What tests in the future?" Jora asked, now getting closer to the adult. He soon had to come to a stop, just in case Akit jumped out of that chair to launch an attack.

"I _can't_ tell you!"

"So you're going to _test_ on little _kids_ like someone tested on you?" the cadet asked. He wanted answers, even if they were something he shouldn't have known, he felt it wasn't fair to be left without a purpose. "You're going to _mess_ with our genetics and turn _us_ into weapons of war? Are you going to turn _US_ into demons?"

Jora wanted to press further, but he felt a hand on his shoulder. Naturally he jerked back and charged to attack, but a hand wrapped around his bicep and his hooves left the ground there after. Instinct faded from the cadet and reason returned, especially as he had been lifted off the ground by someone wearing golden armor.

"Why are you _pestering_ my scientist?" the Shipmaster asked, his voice rumbling with a commanding tone. "I understand you want answers, Cadet, but to badger him?"

Jora hung his head in some shame. Partially from that commanding tone, mostly because the mind of a child urged him to please his authorities and by the sound of it, the Shipmaster was not pleased. Yet that tone faded and turned into a brief chuckle. Jora's head jerked upward and could see a glimmer of a smirk over hidden features. Afterward he had been set down; left standing there gob smacked at what just happened.

"Cadet, I cannot tell you what's in store for you or your teams." The Shipmaster commented thereafter. His large frame would turn and move over to the throne like chair. The moment he planted his rear end down, the chair came to hover as Jora had guessed it would. "Nor can I encourage you to pester my already rather fragile minded scientist"

The child turned his head back toward Akit, who had still not budged from whatever stiff position he had taken while being interrogated. Jora sniffed the air. His nostrils flaring next to his eyes and picking up the odd traces of something he hadn't been exposed too in many years. It was a salty and almost musty aroma in addition to the smell of leather and however one could describe a well kept and clean ship. It smelled like fear.

"Sir, your scientist is weak." Jora denounced as his head swiveled back to the golden clad figure lounging in the command chair.

"A rather _rude_ thing to say about someone while they are within earshot. You are aware that his hearing works properly, correct?" The Shipmaster responded. Jora could see a small glimmer reflecting back in the commanding Sangheili's eyes. It made him wonder if the Shipmaster was offended or amused. His continued lax body posture had the cadet think the latter.

"I care not." He replied, a phrase he found himself thinking over and over as of late. "Perhaps it'd be good for him to know that a child can pick up on this."

The Shipmaster had gone silent. His posture shifted and straightened more in the command chair. There was a slight wave of his hand and the larger male turned his head toward the stiffened Akit. "Return to your assignments. We will speak later." He commanded.

The odd adult seemed finally to unfreeze. Slowly his shoulders would slump slowly and with time his fingers returned to tapping over the screen. Jora watched for a moment silently before the sound of a descending hum caught his attention. The cadet's head snapped back to face the Shipmaster, who at this point was standing and walking to the other side of the holo-map.

"Come with me, Cadet. You've caused _enough_ trouble on my bridge" the Shipmaster spoke.

Jora indeed followed. He never once looked back to see Akit, nor did he have any desire to know what the scientist would do once he had left. To him, the odd Sangheili was worthless and useless for now, even if his influence was behind the stronger commanding officers.

"Am I going back to my normal duties?" Jora asked once he caught up with the adult. Once he had the golden clad authority opened a door on the other half of the oval room. It was still on the same side as the one he previously came in through, but apparently it didn't connect to the Gravity Well.

"No, I am to teach you today. But we will go out to the village. You have stated to me and made it very clear that you want purpose to your training, so I am going to instill purpose and hope you pass it on to your comrades." The Shipmaster explained. The soon opened door revealed an incredibly long hallway with small round windows spaced out evenly all along the way. These windows were only on one side and rays of sunlight lit up the lengthy corridor. Unusual given how the ship normally consisted of dark hallways with only scattered plasma lighting lining the corners.

As the pair wandered down through the corridor, Jora kept his head to the portholes. Each time he passed one, he caught a brief picture of the outside world. There was an overwhelming bloom of sunlight that forced his eyes to adjust and then a brief image of sky and jungle before he had to stare at the wall again for a few paces. This pattern continuing all down the hall until an elevator was before them and the windows had ceased to exist. While he knew he was to be going outside, Jora still wished he could have had more of a chance to see the rest of the world. Despite the experiences, it was becoming preferable to being inside a ship and never seeing the world.

From the long and painfully quiet elevator ride, Jora continued to accompany the behemoth of a Sangheili authority through more hallways. This time they had returned to their old style of being dark and drab. While these hallways were genuinely sparsely populated, those that did linger moved out of the way quickly. They stood with backs to the wall and saluted quickly, waiting for the Shipmaster and cadet to pass before moving on and continuing their tasks. Even the Unggoy and Kig-Yar made these actions. Jora idly remarked to himself about how amazing the Covenant was at times.

After a maze of corridors, opens chambers, and more soldiers stopping to salute than Jora could shake a sword at and finally they had reached a smaller docking bay. Unlike the bay that Jora was accustomed to, this one had rows and rows of empty drop pods lined from one end of the bay to the other. Though there was only one exit to the bay and that required a decently long walk through the otherwise deserted space to the far end.

"So why was this ship docked on this planet?"

"Damage from a UNCS Frigate and Destroyer." The Shipmaster replied promptly. "Noble Shadows has been this way for nearly 3 years. We've been undergoing slow repairs, but with this being one of the older flagships in the Covenant's Fleet, we are a low priority to the Covenant." He added. There was a noticeably dull tone to those words; a hint of disgust and even wounded pride. Really it was quite perplexing to the small cadet.

"Until the ship is repaired, it will remain." The Shipmaster spoke suddenly. His long gait finally had brought him before the sole exit. Jora had done everything in his power to keep up with the adult's longer stride. It had been quite the challenge and sometimes the intent to 'heel' had brought him to break into a light jog. He was never sure if the golden armored Sangheili ever noticed or if he just preferred to keep his own pace regardless how Jora tried to stay in line.

The only door opened with a few swift flicks of clawed fingers over a nearby blackened pad. Keys and symbols lit up with the touch and faded just as fast. Once whatever magical combination had been hit, the bay door slid back and the bloom of sunlight brought the Sangheili child to flinch. The humidity and thick air soon followed and would fill Jora's lungs; bringing him to cough near instantly. It was truly the only thing he hated about this planet and often times he wished the atmosphere had been dryer.

A ramp soon extended out from the door. The soft whirring attracted Jora's attention to the floor as he felt the various pieces of machinery hidden under the floor come to life in order to extend a simple ramp. While fascinated, Jora didn't have much time to consider the little pieces of basic machinations as the Shipmaster was on the move and had stepped on the slowly extending ramp. From there, metal and carbon would meet a stone platform. The adult Sangheili would step out onto the surface which left Jora to quickly clear the 20 foot ramp with a running pace. It was an easy enough action but that thick air brought the cadet to pant and have mandibles spread in order to pull in air quicker.

"I assume you've been through the village before?" the Shipmaster asked suddenly. By now he was half way down the stairs to the main dock, leaving Jora again to play catch up.

"Yes, a couple times before my venture." Jora responded with a cough to finish. The small cadet had finally caught up and even still remaining at the pace the Shipmaster insisted was a chore.

"Well you and all the other cadets shall become well acquainted with this town."

While Jora wished to ask, he felt he knew the answer. With the threat of the humans coming to the planet in force; the child suspected they would be extra eyes and ears left to secure the village at all times. Jora couldn't know this for certain, but it was a hunch he couldn't shake.

Oddly enough, the Shipmaster had little to say from that moment. Outside the brief explanation as the pair strolled along the docks, there was little for even Jora to comment on. He had seen much of this before. The barren docks made of cracked sandstone platforms. Almost as if the ship had just conveniently found an old jungle temple or set of ruins to make its home on and everything else around it sprawled out as the village grew. A few moments passed of working through cargo and the shipyards for phantoms and spirits; after that it was about crossing a well seasoned stone bridge and into the ever bustling village.

Naturally eyes would find their way to the cadet, though more so with the golden armored Sangheili that strode along. Jora couldn't help but feel awkward for every time he passed through, now more than ever. Before the various inhabitants would just give passing nods to the Commander, but now they all but stopped in the streets to gawk. Even women and children of all species did this, though the Sangheili knew the ranks of the species and would respectfully bow their heads as the two passed.

Though the main thoroughfare was ahead, the street Jora was currently on still sported a fair amount of shops, small businesses and other institutions to help commerce and the livelihood. It had been some time since the child remembered passing through and already he could tell things had grown. Some of the older gray stone buildings had been upgraded and patched up. Some even had a fresh coat of vibrant paint to draw the eye.

Once they passed through the small district, the street widened to allow slow moving carts move through with ease. The wall was lined with stands and carts of all sorts, all having various species out selling their wares to whoever passed. With the jungle heat actually being tolerable, the streets were crowded and alive with families and laughing children. The predominant species being Sangheili, so naturally as the Shipmaster passed through, a wide circle of space surrounded both Jora and the adult.

"Even the children show you proper respect." Jora noted aloud at some point. He hadn't expected a response, but was pleasantly surprised to see he had been heard.

"Sangheili children are trained no differently than you and your team mates are. They are just not put through near a rigorous diet and schedule." The shipmaster explained. His normally commanding tone had but slipped away and was replaced with almost a hushed whisper.

"So if Sangheili is the predominant race is this city a keep or is it more like High Charity?" Jora inquired as the road to the main thoroughfare was coming to an end, at least on the path they took.

"Neither. There _is_ a council, yes, but this civilization is run more by its business and trade. Whoever has the deeper pockets are the ones who govern the town."

"And who are they?"

The Shipmaster made a gentle gesture with his nearest hand. His palm remained flat and fingers outstretched slightly while the whole hand waved gently. Jora wasn't for certain what it was he was told to do, but figured it was best to move to a different subject.

"So your intention is to place us out _here_?"

Again came another wave of the Shipmaster's hand. Jora was indeed perplexed to a point he even glanced around to see if someone was listening. Outside the staring eyes, there was nothing readily obvious to him, so again Jora decided to drop the subject and stop talking entirely.

With the market place now crossed, ahead was a more residential type street. A stark contrast from the crossroads prior, hardly anyone was out walking around. The two story gray stone buildings had a few balconies where there were women hanging out laundry to dry along the railings or children playing with various wooden toys. On lower levels it wasn't uncommon to see a group of one species huddled around in a half circle. Their only intent being to relax and watch the few passersby. They would wave to anyone who passed in front of them, even the Shipmaster and Jora.

The cadet had a comment he wanted to make, but he refrained. For some reason speaking didn't seem to be a high priority for the moment. Jora didn't mind for the moment. Oddly enough taking in the sights and heavy smells of breads, peppers, and freshly washed linens had put him at ease. Perhaps it was the comforts of home he missed, the other kids that lived within the apartment complex. Most of all, Jora missed his mother and her surprisingly elegant mannerisms and way of looking at the world. How he wished he could see her face again, even if just a picture.

"Alright." The Shipmaster spoke suddenly, interrupting Jora's train of thought and momentary grief. The adult had come to a stop by then. They both stood at the end of the street. Before them both now were two or three districts of smaller huts that lay along a gentle downhill slope. Eventually that slope tapered flat and farmlands took up the country side all the way to the far off mountain ranges. At least that was from what Jora could tell.

" _This_ is the land you cadets will be patrolling." The Shipmaster explained as he turned to face Jora and extended his arm in a sweeping 'look at all this' gesture. "When it comes time that is."

The cadet's focus went from the adult and back out to the districts. The huts were sizable enough for small families. Most were likely the less fortunate of the town's citizens that conglomerated together to form a hopefully more peaceful slums. That was just a guess; Jora couldn't know.

"And may I ask specifically why out here?" Jora decided to question. If there was unrest he wanted to know. Humans were bad enough, but as far as the child knew, no one on his team were meant to be enforcers.

"The families here are _not_ as well trained in armed combat as they should be. They are all varying species of the Covenant, but surprisingly have lost their ways or have chosen to forego the normal traditions" The shipmaster explained, his body posture shifting slightly to face more of the landscape before them rather than the cadet. "Odd, I understand, but the planetary isolation and limited contact with the inner Covenant forces has shaken their faith." The adult snaked his head to look to Jora, his head tilting to one side a bit as he observed the cadet.

"They no longer believe in the Great Journey?"

"Not entirely. Like you, they have lost their purpose. They don't have something to believe in except the labors of their own two hands." He said. There was a brief moment that Jora had to look back up. He idly wondered if a planet like this was just the epitome of those losing their way. He momentarily reflected back on how some of the Sangheili soldiers acted. They all seemed to be less driven than those he remembered back on High Charity. Be it the false sense of security or lax regulations, Jora wasn't sure which but he did question about whether this was simple a planet of lost hopes.

Jora briefly smirked at the sudden inner nickname given to the planet before turning his gaze slowly back to the farmlands and slums. "So us fighting out there or protecting the citizens will bring that flame back to the city?"

"I'm not worried about the city." The Shipmaster clarified. "I'm more concerned for you cadets. But if seeing children fight a war is what it takes to bring spirits back, then I suppose it would be a welcomed side effect."

Jora let those words settle. He didn't have much to add anyway so for now it was just something new to think and mull over. The cadets had plenty of spirit, just nowhere to let that spirit flourish. He wondered over if it was even worth the effort. Fighting the UNSC again brought a little determination and excitement to his suddenly uneasy claws. But to what extent was this 'fighting' going to be?

"Are you ready?" the deep voice interrupted.

Jora snapped his head back to the adult. "Ready for what?"

"Ready to have your team and every other cadet fight?"

"We've always been ready to fight, Shipmaster." The cadet retorted. He shrugged his shoulders slightly before looking back to the farmland. "I just wonder what the extent of our fighting might be.

"Perhaps clarification would be _'defending the city until the human threat has ceased_.'"

Again Jora gave out a sigh. That was the description he was fearful of. "We are ready to kill intruders if that's what you ask." Jora replied. "Sit on our laurels and _wait_ for the fight to come to us is exactly what we _don't_ want to do."

"Then we will head back. Make preparations to have armor made for all of you." The golden armored Sangheili started. From there he went on a laundry list of things that needed to be done. Preparing for war had that sort of quality and Jora couldn't fault it.

Yet all while they meandered their way back to the ship, he couldn't help but tune out the adult. In some aspects, he didn't find it fair that they would be set to wait as a defensive line rather than offensive. At the same token he also understood it a wise factor to not send children into battle and on the front lines. The conflict was something he couldn't get over.

Even as he returned to the ship and resumed normal training regimes, Jora felt unsettled. He wanted a fight and a reason to inspire himself and his fellow cadets. Though his meeting with the Shipmaster had always been intended to be secret and private, but that didn't stop him from chewing over everything. Clearly being look outs wasn't what he wanted. To fight for real was what he had hoped for.

Jora wished he could say the time spent with the Shipmaster brought the drive that was intended for him. But all he could feel were more questions and uneasiness that made him almost despise the position he was in.


End file.
